Avalanche
by Lumos-Nox-Obliviate
Summary: Brittana fanfic. Set at the beginning of season 3. Santana POV coming to terms with herself and concreting her relationship with Brittany. Enjoy!
1. First Day Back

**Ch 1: First Day Back**

Santana was used to this. She could handle it. Her feet inside her sneakers were hot, her uniform was stuck by sweat to her lower back and her chest heaved even though she tried to keep her breathing even and unnoticeable. But she _could_ handle it.

The loudspeaker squealed as Sue tapped her finger across the trigger and barked: "In the time it has taken you all to deplete my will to live with this routine, 87 squirrel monkeys are fighting off the effects of Nivea skincare testing regiments in a plant not three towns south of here. I have decided to replace you all with them. I expect you all to be showered and lined up at 5 o'clock sharp in the bus bays so that the man I hired who works at the local pound can drive you down there in his doggy van. My monkeys should be arriving in time for Cheerios practice tomorrow afternoon. Class. Dismissed."

Santana didn't drop her arms out of her finishing pose until Coach Sylvester had stalked off the pitch, with the rotund swamp-dwelling feeble excuse for Santana's co-captain waddled after her.  
>Behind Santana, still crouched on the second tier of the human pyramid, Brittany was frowning.<p>

"Wait. Is she serious? Coz I'm not allowed to use Nivea since I mistook it for mayonnaise and put it in my sister's burger."

Santana waited for her to disengage from the other girls and approach her before she answered the question.

"She's not serious, Britt Britt." They collected their bags and walked together across the pitch, past where the football team was getting a less sadistic berating from Coach Beiste.

"You boys need to stop worrying about the socks ya'll have stuffed in your cups and start focusing on the ball. Otherwise it won't be the only pigs bladder getting hurled around this pitch." Then she oinked.

"Coach Sylvester hates our routine doesn't she?" Brittany wasn't as bemused as Santana was by Beiste, her blue eyes were still vaulted underneath a frown.

"She hates everything Britt."

"Like Mr Heckles?"

Santana shot her a look.

"Who's Mr Heckles?"

"He lived below Rachel and Monica. Or Phoebe and Monica. Or Joey and Chandler. Or Monica and Chandler, depending on what season you're watching. He hated everything just like Coach Sylvester." At this, Santana couldn't help it, she smiled.

Across the pitch, at the concreted path that lead back into the back hallways of McKinley, a short girl with a red and green checked sweater and a clashing stripped blue and white skirt was standing straight backed, her large dark eyes watching them approach expectantly.

"Look, one of Sue's monkeys got here early," Santana muttered to Brittany who flicked her golden pony tail and grinned at Santana. It was somewhat of a conciliation to the impending encounter with Rachel Berry.

"Greetings ladies," Rachel began before Santana had even decided whether or not she was going to acknowledge her.

"Hey," Brittany said, smiling politely. Santana wrinkled her nose.

"The only thing I want to know is where in God's name you're keeping the poor Christmas elf whose outfit you stole."

"How was your summer break?" Rachel asked, ignoring Santana.

"Good, mostly." Brittany said, shrugging. Santana looked sideways at her.

"Lord Tubbington and I got into a huge fight over whether it was okay to pierce his ears or not. Aannd," she sighed, "My parents have adopted a leprechaun. He sleeps in the spare room. I'm not very happy about it seeing as it means I've had to move my weaving studio into the garage."

Santana stifled a snort of laughter at the confusion in Rachel's beady eyes and cut in incase Britt decided to share with Rachel the frequent lake escapades that she and Santana had gone on during the last, hottest weeks of the break.

"Well I guess all my efforts these holidays went to waste," she said, putting on her best disappointed voice and eyeing Rachel up and down. "I spent most of my time hacking off the limbs of each of the 100 voodoo dolls I made of you. Seems not have worked."

Rachel winced.

"Look Santana, I've profusely apologised about what happened in New York. Did you get the apology themed advent calendar that my Dads helped me make? One sorry for each day of the holidays. Although," she paused and cocked her head. "If memory serves a few calendars became more devoted to carefully crafted personalised improvement tips for each of the Glee members."

"One of mine said I had to stop trying to eat sequins," Brittany mused.

Santana shot her a look of concern, more worried about how much she'd taken Rachel's critiques to heart than about Brittany's sequin consumption. Santana had seen her ingest worse, that was for sure.

"I didn't look at mine," Santana admitted. "The exorcist I hired when I saw your name on the card told me it was possessed so I threw it in garbage disposal. Sorry," she added, tilting her head into a bright smile. Beside her, Brittany laughed.

"Look ladies," Rachel was all business despite the insult. Her skin must have thickened after three years, thought Santana. Though she had to admit to herself, taunting Rachel Berry was not so much a priority than it once had been. Only when Rachel begged for it did Santana comply fully. And in Santana's book, dressing up as the seventh downsyndromed child that the Brady bunch had kept hidden from the cameras _was _begging for it.

"I'm only here because I'm waiting for Finn to finish practise so that he can take me to the gift shop where I heard they have just imported a fresh supply of Barbara Streisand bobble heads. But now that you two are here, there _is _something I think I best talk to you about."

Santana's eyes were scooting over Rachel's head towards the school but at Rachel's words, she froze, her eyes locked on the U.S flag that curled limply around the nearby flagpole. Cold washed down her skin in a wave. She couldn't know, could she? No, wait, she mentally shook herself. There was no need to panic. Like Britt had said after prom last year:

_They don't know what you're hiding. They just know your not being yourself_.

She had to get a grip on herself, she thought, flicking her eyes to Brittany who had her head tilted back slightly, looking down her nose at Rachel, drowsy with boredom. Comforted, Santana switched her eyes back to Rachel.

"Spit it out Berry, we don't got all day. I have some more voodoo dolls to harvest."

"It's about Quinn. Finn and I are worried about her. We fear she's become slightly unhinged." Santana's relief felt almost palpable. She had to agree with Rachel on this one. Quinn's new look- The pink hair, Seacrest tattoo, the old man she began dating that had once tried to sell Santana weed on the condition that she bent over in her Cheerio's uniform- it was all concrete proof that Quinn was batshit crazy.

But Santana _got it. _She did. She understood Quinn better than she'd ever thought she would. That baby had created a huge black hole in Quinn's sanity, and no one cared to look hard enough at Quinn to realise that. Everyone just assumed she was spiralling out of control because she'd lost her boyfriend to Rachel and lost Prom Queen to a fruit fly. But Santana knew what it was like to have everything to lose. Quinn had lost it all. And Santana knew she could just as easily.

"Mmmm, Quinn scares me now," Brittany had popped a Dot in her mouth and was chewing it for comfort.

"She's just going through stuff," Santana said. "She'll come around soon. But I do think she deserves more than one apology advent calendar from you Berry."

"Quinn knows I never meant to upset her. Look maybe you guys can talk her around? We need to keep Glee club together so we have enough performers for our journey on the yellow brick road towards fame and fortune and everything else that comes with winning a national school grade glee club title."

"I dibs being Dorothy!" Brittany said brightly, grinning around at Santana and Rachel.

"O-o-kay," Rachel faltered.

"And you'd be the Wicked Witch from the West," She said nodding at Rachel.

"That was mean Brittany," Rachel chided. "You have to learn to not pick up on Santana's bad habits."

By now, Santana had reached the end of the very small tether she reserved for Rachel. She wanted to get home and take a shower and start the third season of Sweet Valley High she'd brought Britt for her birthday.

"Just spit out what you are trying to say," she snapped.

"You two have to talk her back around. For all the Glee Clubs sakes. Especially my own." That was it. Santana rolled her eyes, threw up her hands in dramatic frustration and shouldered Rachel out of the way, heading for her locker. She didn't have to turn around to know Britt would be following her.

"Sorry Rachel," she heard Brittany say. "Please don't send your flying monkeys after us."

/

It wasn't until she and Brittany were both on Santana's bed, their limbs heavy and loose from their showers that the subject of Quinn was brought up again. The opening credits of the first Sweet Valley High DVD were running and Santana was shifting the black pillows around herself so that she could see the laptop screen better. Brittany was picking a fingernail with her teeth. She chewed it, spat it out and said, "I think we _should _talk to Quinn."

"Mmm?" Santana humoured her.

"Yeah, because, well firstly I don't trust Rachel with her promise not send the flying monkeys after us. And second, I don't think that Quinn would listen to anyone else but us. We got her to cut her hair remember? She must have kept all her sanity in the ends of it and we got her to cut it off so this is partly all our fault. "

"We can talk to her if that's what you want." She shot Brittany a smile and nudged her foot with her own to pull Brittany out of her impromptu performance of the Sweet Valley High theme song. It was on repeat as the DVD menu flashed on a loop through the play options.

"Hmm?"

"I said we can talk to her. If it makes you happy." Santana heard her voice soften as a smile lit up Brittany's face. Brittany scooted closer to her on the bed and nestled into the curve of Santana's armpit, pressing her bum up against the tops of Santana's thighs. Santana felt her body mould instinctively around Brittany's. She snaked an arm around Brittany's waist, leaving her palm pressed into the hot jut of Brittany's hipbone. Santana felt the familiar trill up and down her body as Brittany leant across the bed and clicked play on the laptop. Her bum moved against Santana's legs and her waist curved under Santana's palm in a way that reminded her of Brittany's dancing- those times in the choir room when Brittany leapt up to join whoever was performing and swayed her hips and flicked her hair in a way that made Santana grip the sides of her red plastic chair so hard that it had bent beneath her fists.

They were only into the opening scene of the Sweet Valley High episode but already Santana was distracted by the lavender-esque scent of Brittany's hair. She'd scooped it up into a low messy bun which left the soft sweep of skin on her neck exposed. Santana, spooning Brittany from behind, had to put her face dangerously close to that patch of skin in order to see the screen.

But she let her eyes drift across Brittany's neck, taking in the soft curl of Brittany's baby hair at the very base of her hairline. Santana closed her eyes and bent to brush her lips against it. Before she could get there Britt nudged her and she opened her eyes to find Britt's face turned to hers.

"You not watching?"

"Hmm? Mmmhmm I am."

"I've had an idea. I think we should do a musical show of Sweet Valley High for the school production this year."

"That is such a good idea Britt Britt. You think that Miss Baggins will let us take away her one man band epic trip to Mordor?"

"Lord of the Flies?" Brittany shrugged. "We'd need to go to New Zealand to ask her at this time of night." She turned her head further to get a better look at Santana. "That's where the Shire is you know."

Absently, Santana ran her finger tips up and down the top of Brittany's arm.

"I know Britt Britt." Her voice, because of the smooth run of skin beneath her finger tips, dropped a notch. Brittany must have noticed its sudden husk because she raised her eyebrows and curled around in Santana's arms to face her.

"Mmm, is it time for my dose of sweet lady kisses?" She rubbed her nose up one of Santana's cheeks and hovered over her. Santana felt a pull between her legs and she watched Brittany's eyes circle her lips. She dipped her head close until Santana could feel the heat of her skin and the wash of Dot flavoured breath across her face.

Then, like in every romantic comedy that ever existed, Brittany's phone, with its ridiculously loud vibration, started to buzz so hard it skittered across the top of Santana's bedside table and onto the carpet.

Brittany pulled away and twisted an arm down the side of the bed to retrieve it. Santana dropped her hands from around Brittany and waited, annoyance knotting itself in her chest.

"It's from Rory,' Brittany said, her thumb scrolling down the message.

"Whose Rory?" She surprised herself with the sharpness in her voice.

"The leprechaun that lives in my spare bedroom. I've told you about him."

"Oh, Potato Sack? " Santana wrinkled her nose. "What does he want? A punch in the face? Coz give him my number, I'd be happy to oblige." Brittany shuffled around so that she was kneeling in front of Santana on the bed.

"He says he got everything sorted and he's starting school on Thursday. He wants me to come home and help him decipher his class schedule."

"Again, he should have asked me. I still have to help you with yours."

"No, today I worked it out by myself."

"That's because we had all the same classes," Santana reasoned."So you're leaving?"

She kept her eyes carefully trained on the lap top screen where the episode was bubbling along, but she didn't take in any of the dialogue .

"Well," Brittany huffed a sigh, "I did promise him I'd help him out in exchange for some insider knowledge about why coo-coo clocks exist and how exactly he escaped from the Irish themed one that my Nana Peirce keeps from the trip to Europe she took when she was a hippie. You know, back when they were fighting against women's suffrage. "

Despite Brittany's comment, Santana did not smile.

"Okay, fine. But you're leaving Sweet Valley High here so I have something to do." Brittany's face fell.

"But then you'll get ahead of me."

"Well if you don't want that, stay."

"Santana." Brittany ducked her head to catch Santana's eyes with her own. "Are you mad?"

Santana sighed, leant forward and jabbed a forefinger onto the mouse pad so that the episode paused.

"No. Go off and be with _Rory _if that's what makes you happy. But don't blame me if you both end up stuck in the P.E shed for half the day like the last time you tried to sort out your own timetable."

Brittany was silent so Santana chanced a quick glance at her. She could see the top of her cheeks reddening like they usually did when she was upset.

"San..." She reached out for one of Santana's hands but Santana lifted it out of the way and up to her hair where she tightened her pony tail.

"No, Britt. Don't. Leave the DVDs and go. I'll see you tomo..."

Brittany leant forward and cut her off by pressing her lips against Santana's.

Because they were halfway through a word, Santana's lips were awkwardly placed for a kiss and it ended up a little sloppy. But when Brittany pulled back she gaped at her. Brittany never made the first move.

It was one of their unspoken rules when it came to _sweet lady kisses_. First it had been, _only when boys are watching._ Then, _only if we don't talk during or after._ And now, _only if Santana makes the moves. _It had started after they'd determined that what they did was serious enough to be considered cheating and when Santana's true feelings had burst all over the freaking choir room floor during their performance of Landslide.

Britt had been so patient with Santana's hesitance that Santana was too scared to thank her for waiting just in case it had just been a mistake and Brittany hadn't even _realised_ she'd been waiting.

The feelings had been said now. It was all out there and sometime after that their kisses and touches had acquired the weight of a tonne of bricks behind them when they used to only be the product of light headed dizziness , urged on by a chorus of wolf-whistles and cheers. Seeing as it all meant something, and Santana's stomach tied in knots whenever anything involving another person _meant something_ and Brittany knew this, she had waited. So many times Brittany had let Santana turn the lights off and lock the door and pull sheets up around her chest. She'd laid waiting beside Santana in the dark, her breathing even and her body still- until that unknown something broke in Santana broke- and she would rush at Brittany like a hurricane- all fury and haste. And when Santana came to her like that, every single time she did, Brittany was as supple and ready as liquid beneath her hands and her lips.

Those were some of the reasons why Santana loved her.

It was clear that Brittany only realised she'd broken the rules after the fact. It took a moment and then her eyes dropped from Santana's guiltily and she bit her bottom lip.

"Sorry Santana."

"No, no." Santana cleared her throat against her suddenly cracked voice. "It's alright Britt." She attempted a smile and pushed playfully against Brittany's knee."Get out of here and go make sure your leprechaun hasn't taken off with your pot of gold. If he has I'll hunt him down and stuff him so hard back into the coo-coo clock he won't know what hit him."

Brittany's smile was so wide Santana could see all her teeth and her eyes were only blue slits above her cheeks.

"You," she said, leaning over to kiss Santana on the cheek. "Are the best friend that I could ever wish for."

"Shut up." Santana gave her a light shove. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once Brittany had left Santana lay on her bed, ignoring her Mom calling up the stairs to tell her dinner was ready. The exertion from that afternoons Cheerios practice had caught up to her muscles and they were so heavy and achy that she just lay there, trying to divert her thinking away from the quality bonding time Rory was getting in with Brittany. She left her laptop on her desk, Sweet Valley High paused 14 minutes in. Eventually her computer switched to sleep mode and the screen blacked out. Santana fell asleep watching it's blinking orange stand-by light.


	2. Political Protest

**Note:**

**Thanks for the interest and positive feedback so far. Means a lot! I actually wrote the first two chapters in one go so I'll put the second one up now. This deals with the events of the first episode- Mostly just the stuff that effects Santana. **

**Also, there won't be much mushy stuff between Britt and Santana yet, considering Santana's words in episode 4 where she asks Britt if they can talk about that thing they never talk about. So this is still Santana negotiating who exactly she wants to be. **

**Enjoy :) **

**Oh and I forgot to mention- Spoilers! Haha. **

Ch 2: Political Protest

Brittany was waiting for Santana at the foot of McKinley's entrance stairs the next morning. Her hands were cupped around her red and white pom-poms, squeezing them so they wouldn't shift and shimmy when she walked.

"Hi," she chimed when she spotted Santana crossing the car park. She waved a pom-pom.

"Hey," Santana couldn't help grinning. She stepped up to Brittany and was about to reach for a hug when she caught the familiar waddling walk of Becky- her Cheerio co-captain. She chose not to stand too close to them, positioning herself several stairs above.

"Coach told me to tell you that you have to remember what you promised to do before the last Cheerios meeting. She told me she will end you if you don't comply."

Santana stared at her, her lips shrivelling in disgust as Becky turned and trotted away.

"Okay, so I know that it's bad to hate on mentally disabled kids but that little she-Shrek really, really is asking for it."

"What did you promise Coach you'd do?" Brittany was puzzled. "Aren't the monkeys coming today?"

"No they're not Britt," Santana said gently.

"Okay so what did you promise?"

"That I'd sabotage the glee club," Santana tried to sound casual so Britt would assume it was nothing big. "Burn a piano or something when we see one."

"The purple pianos that Mr Shue told us to use to recruit new people?" Brittany was frowning and teasing the strands of her pom-pom apart.

"Yeah. It's the same old story, crush the Glee club etcetera."

"But I thought seeing as we like glee club now we weren't going to do that anymore," Brittany's voice was deadpan like it always was when she was confused. Santana sighed and stepped closer, laying a hand gently over the one Brittany was using to fiddle with her pom-pom.

"Look, I still have a rep to protect." She lowered her voice. "Ever since that debacle with the Muckraker last year people are a lot more onto what is going on. And I just..." A sudden tightness in her throat made her pause. She was not going to cry.

"...I just want my last year to be good. You know? I just want to stay on top while I still can. My whole life after this is gonna be complicated and I just want this one year..." Brittany cut her off.

"I know, you told me that last year. And I know you don't want to join the golf team or cut your hair and join an alternative rock band like that group of lesbians called The Spill Canvas. But what does that have to do with what Coach Sylvester wants you to do?"

"Being the...co-captain," she said begrudgingly, "is my ticket to a breezy last year. If I want to stay at the top I have to do what Coach asks. And if that means setting fire to a stupid purple piano then fine. Besides we already did it to the first piano anyway and no one really cared. Minus the fact that I can still taste the pasta that they threw in the back of my throat."

"Wait..." Brittany was frowning again. The way it rumpled up the edges of her nose and turned her lips into a bow made Santana want to kiss her. "So, you guys planned that food fight?"

"Pretty much. Though no one took much notice of my commands to avoid hitting you and I." Brittany rolled her eyes around and Santana noticed her tongue fold into one of her cheeks- it was her thinking face.

"Do I have help do it too?" She asked after a pause.

Santana knew Brittany had half as much to lose as she did. Everyone knew she liked it both ways. She'd made her way through almost every one of the guys at the school as well as kissed a number of the girls. She was free because she didn't care. And Santana only could be free because she _did _care.

"No, Britt. You don't have to do it if you don't want."

"Good, because purple is my 4th favourite colour and pianos are my 2nd favourite instrument."

/

They had their first class together- history with Mrs Clearwater whose favourite subject was Nazis. Today when Santana and Brittany arrived early the teacher's seat was still empty and the board was clean. Only half the class had dawdled in, including Puck and Finn who sat together in the back row. Santana led Brittany to the two seats in the isle across from them and sat down.

"Hey Santana, hey Brittany," Finn smiled his baby fart smile at them. "How was your break?"

"Joyfully free of the sight of your face so I'm going for it was good thanks." Santana smiled sweetly. Puck snorted.

"Hey Britt, wanna see something cool?" He was swinging on his chair with a smirk on his face.

"Always," Brittany said brightly, darting off her chair and swinging her long legs around to perch on Puck's desk. Pucks hands were in his lap.

"You've gotta lean over." Finn glanced over and down at Pucks lap and Santana saw his face wrinkle in disgust.

"Aw jesus Puck put it away. That's so sick." Brittany had also pulled back, wrinkling her nose. She slid off his desk, the flaps of her Cheerios skirt flipping up briefly.

"That was gross."

"What was it?" Santana asked, her eyes narrowed at Brittany. "What did he show you and will I have to cut it off and feed it to the rabid dog that my cousin owns?"

"I got a piercing," Puck winked. "Figured I couldn't show it to you in case you told your boyfriend and it pissed him off."

"Santana doesn't have a boyfriend," Brittany said, flicking her eyes to Santana. "Do you?" Santana shook her head, wondering if there was worry in the look Brittany shot her.

"So you and Karofsky..." Finn questioned.

"Oh, him," Santana caught on. "He transferred."

"Ah, that's good. I mean, no offense Santana but that guy was a tool," Finn said.

"A total tool," Puck agreed, zipping up his pants. "You should know you can do better than him. I mean, you dated me!"

"Yes and as thrilling as that was, from the state of what I'm guessing is in your pants, I'm glad it's over."

"Santana," Finn was leaning toward her with all that overzealous earnestness that had always given her the urge to punch him in the eye. "I hope this year you make better choices about who you want to be with. You know, you've got to really be with someone who cares about you. I mean, it took me awhile to figure that out but being back with Rachel has made me..."

"Okay I'm going to stop you right there," Santana interrupted, her face flushing. "You obviously have taken one too many of those pills you must have to take to be with Rachel in the first place to have the audacity to suggest that I should want to model my next relationship after you two."

She crossed her arms, flicked her ponytail jauntily over one shoulder and tried not to pick apart the meaning in Finn's words. Her eyes bored into the blank whiteboard as her desk softly rocked back and forth from the excessive erasing Brittany was doing over her Lord Tubbington doodle.

Mrs Clearwater appeared 20 minutes late with a large box full of copies of Hitler's 'Mein Kumpf'. "For those of you who want to read Hilter's manifesto, I've managed to secure the limited release 3rd edition copies from a guy I know who knows a guy who knows a guy working in the official Nazi library in Hawaii."

"Hawaii?" Santana mouthed, shaking her head. This woman could almost give Quinn a run for her crazy coins. Several of the students trickled up to the front of the room towards the box, including Brittany. Santana's eyes magneted to the smooth backs of her thighs as her cheer skirt swung back and forth across them.

In her pocket her phone buzzed, wrenching her thoughts away from soft lines of skin that ran up the inside of those thighs, and Brittany, laying in the dark in front of her, her breathing ragged and muffled by a pillow as Santana swept her tongue along them. She pulled her phone out as Brittany sat back beside her, already frowning at the first page of the book. The text message was from Kurt.

_Group text alert guys and gals! Blaine is joining New Directions! Meet in the courtyard by the stairs lunch 2 watch him perform a curtain raiser! Merc, Rach, can you help me bring one of those purple pianos there so we can kill 2 birds with 1 stone? _

Santana shot a look over at Puck and Finn who both had their eyes on their phone screens.

"Sweet deal!" Puck exclaimed. "I'd rather have Blaine than that girl who sounded like pack of menopausal cats."

"Sugar?" Britt piped up, her phone also in her hands. "I thought she was great!"

"You think everything's great," Puck pointed out.

"I don't think your piercing is great," Brittany said, returning back to 'Mein Kampf'.

"Britt..." Finn paused. "You're not going to really read that are you?"

"Huh?" Brittany looked up. "Oh, no. I'm just going to look at the pictures." Finn snorted but quickly turned away when he caught Santana's glare.

"Jeez Santana you look like you want to set me on fire," He muttered, holding up his hands in surrender. Santana was about to snap back at him when a thought struck her. Well, it was more the echo of Coach Sylvester's instructions the afternoon before.

_I want you to track down those pianos, take care of them, and make it look like an accident. _

As if to banish the words, she shook her head. It was one thing to burn the piano, but it was another thing entirely to ruin Blaine's introduction to his new school. It would be _bullying, _Santana reasoned. Not normal bullying, which she supported totally. _ Anti-gay_ bullying. As much as Santana could care less about Mr Bow-Tie's feelings, she couldn't shake the wrongness of it. She couldn't shake the fact that it could be her so easily if she let it. If she stepped up and told the truth she'd be in just the same boat as Kurt and Blaine. But then Coach Sylvester's other words came to her, the ones that had been spoken more softly, with Coach's pale eyes reading Santana's face like a barcode.

_Santana, you like playing both sides. Isn't that right? What team are you playing for this year? Losers or the winners? _

Team Sue. Santana mouthed her own words back to the echo. Still feeling the threat all the implications, the double meanings of the questions that Santana wasn't quite sure she had imagined. The team she was playing for meant Glee Club or Cheerios, didn't it? That's what Brittany had meant when she'd said it last year. It was Santana who had read extra meanings into those words. Well, Santana and the entire student body.

When the bell rang for second period, Santana had made up her mind. As she and Brittany walked to their next class she flicked open her phone and typed a message, entering the group of contacts labelled _Cheerios _into the recipient box. She was careful to remove Brittany's number from the ones listed before she hit send.

_Political piano protest no.2 lunch today. Bring kerosene. Be prepared 2 backup dance 1st though._

_/_

It struck her as funny during her walk away from the choir room that afternoon that Mr Shue's words could echo just as loudly with implied meanings as Coach Sylvester's had.

_Don't come back till you can be as loyal to this club as the rest of these people in this room. _

Don't come back until you choose who you want to be. Choose who you are like everyone else can. And stick with it.

It was too much for her to handle, and she'd said so. Yet the straight backed poise that she'd retained during the walk across the choir room and out of the door had dissolved as soon as she found herself alone in that hallway. She physically sank- her shoulders slumped forwards and her steps faltered. Tears, unbidden, wormed their way to the corners of her eyes. She didn't even go to her locker, she just fished out her car keys from the pocket of her skirt and drove straight home.

She took a shower and put on a tank top and undies before crawling in bed. Her Mom was working the late shift tonight at the clinic and she remembered her Dad talking about some black tie fundraiser thing for his practice so the house was looming and silent. She'd been too worn-out to dry herself properly and her clothes and sheets stuck to her shoulders and lower back uncomfortably. She huffed a sigh and stared up into the ceiling of her bedroom, her eyes focused on the gold of her light bulb for so long that when she looked away blobs of light followed her eyes around the room.

It was messy. That morning she'd only bothered to make her bed. Her dresser was littered with makeup and jewellery tangled together and half empty bottles of alcohol. Her iPod was somewhere amongst the mess too, and she almost got up to find it but she felt glued to the bed. She swam deeper into her sheets, pulling them up over her head to block out the light she was too lazy to switch off. She begged sleep to come.

When she heard her door creak she ignored it, thinking it was just her Mom home early and checking on her, though she hadn't noticed the sound of the car's engine in the drive. Santana lay still, hoping her Mom would realise she was sleeping and turn the light off for her.

It worked.

Santana heard the light click off and instantly the glow that had been ebbing through her sheet was gone. She heard the door click closed and smiled to herself.

But it faltered when she heard soft padding of footsteps coming across the carpet towards her. Santana sat up, tore the sheet off her face and blinked into the darkness.

"Hey." Brittany's voice was soft, edged with uncertainty. Santana felt the mattress sink as it took her weight. She tried to focus on Brittany's features through the dark but her face was in shadow. She blinked to adjust her eyes.

"Hey you." She reached out for Brittany's hand and felt it curl warmly around her own.

"You okay?"

"Mmm uhuh. Just tired."

"I know, you were sleeping. Sorry for waking you up." Santana could see Brittany's eyes, liquid sparks in the gloom.

"It's okay."

"Can I lie down?" Santana saw her point to the bed.

"Uhuh. Yeah."

The bed shifted again as Brittany moved under the sheets. She shuffled over until her body was flush against Santana's.

"I'm sorry Mr Shue made you leave glee club."

It wasn't as hard to hear as Santana had thought it would be. The crying she'd done lasted as far as the double doors out into the car park. Now she just felt oddly hollow about it all. Was it resignation? Santana didn't think she'd been resigned to anything in her life. She'd always fought for what she wanted. Hadn't she? But what had today been? What had she been fighting for?

She realised Brittany was still waiting for a response so she shrugged, and twisted onto her side, looking at Brittany's dark outline beside her.

"I sort've deserved it." She said quietly.

"You were just doing what Coach told you to. I've done that too."

"Yeah but we're a lot more grown up now. It was lame of me."

"So you're not going to do it again?" Brittany settled further down in the bed. Her thigh brushed against Santana's. The contact made Santana shiver.

"All three pianos are pretty much ruined. Sue got what she wanted."

"Are you going to come back to the glee club?" Santana looked up at Brittany in the dark, her eyes searching her expression.

"Do you want me to?" Her voice was soft and the question came out all wrong. Like she was scared to ask it. Brittany curved her arms around Santana's waist and she felt her head move in a nod against the pillow.

"Of course, silly." Her breath skittered across Santana's face, smelling once again of Dots. "I left a picture in your locker after glee club."

"Did you draw it for me?"

She turned her face up to Brittany's, feeling all the places where Brittany's body touched her own burn.

She only let Britt get out half her answer ("Ye-") before she reached and curled her hand up through the base of Brittany's hair, pulling her lips hard against her own.

They both inhaled sharply through their noses as their lips met- Brittany out of surprise and Santana out of the sheer hot beauty of feeling Brittany's open mouth under her own. Their bodies came together and Santana rolled on top of Brittany, pinning her hips straight with her knees. She kissed Brittany desperately, only half aware of Britt's hands catching around her shoulders and of her shifting hips as she arched her back to Santana's touch. Santana bit Britt's bottom lip, sliding her hand up the long plane of her outer thigh. Santana shivered. _This _is what she'd wanted to do all day. Every swish of Brittany's Cheerios skirt had brought with it the memories of the countless times she'd done just this.

"Take off your uniform," Santana murmured into Brittany's lips, moving off her. Brittany always did what she was told when Santana was this dark-eyed and solemn. Santana lay on the bed, feeling her heartbeat rise up behind her ears and down to beat between her legs simultaneously. She watched as Brittany stood up and wiggled her arm up around her back, dragging the zip of her uniform down.

Her skin stood out in the dark- milky white. When she came back to the bed in her bra and underwear Santana already felt as though she'd taken far too long. Her hands flew to Brittany's breasts, kneading her nipples through the lace of her bra. They were already hard but she whisked her tongue over them both for good measure- still over the lace. She felt Britt's body arch to her again and she heard her sharp intake of breath at the sensation. Santana rose back to Brittany's face and kissed her breath away once again.

"San..." Brittany pulled her lips away from Santana's and scrambled over her name as Santana slipped her hand underneath the cotton of her underwear and stroked the wet folds. They were soft, smooth. She shivered against Brittany and felt her insides all melt together.

"Oh god..." Santana kissed her again, wrapped one arm underneath Brittany's shoulders and dipped the fingers of her other hand between the folds. Brittany stilled against Santana, and shifted her legs further apart. That was too much, far too much for Santana. This was Brittany at her worst- when she was like this it didn't matter how hard Santana tried- the rushing and ripping and controlling couldn't chase away all the meaning behind what they were doing.

_I'm angry because I have all these feelings. Feelings for you. That I'm afraid of dealing with, because I'm afraid of dealing with the consequences. _

Her mouth was at Brittany's throat, her collar bone, her shoulder, her neck, her lips. Santana kissed and bit and felt every shudder of Britt's breath as though it were surging through her own lungs.

_I just want you. _

She slipped her fingers inside Brittany and curled them upwards. The feel of the slippery, warm length of her blinded Santana for a moment. Below her, Brittany shuddered, her hands tight around Santana's shoulders, digging her finger nails in. Through her ragged breathing Santana heard Brittany whisper her name, hug her closer and lean her head back, closing her eyes to the pleasure. Brittany knew what Santana wanted from her, what she needed. She rose her hips and Santana felt herself heave in arousal. She moved her fingers inside Brittany, swiping her thumb back and forth across Brittany's clit until her wrist was cramping and she felt Brittany still finally, her insides taunt around Santana's fingers. She felt Brittany's muscles give, watched the planes of her stomach and face twitch as the pleasure washed over her. When Britt had stopped rocking against Santana's fingers she pulled them out and slunk back up the bed, closer to Brittany's face. Her eyes were open now, searching for Santana's. She tipped her head and kissed her softly, gratefully.

"Thank you," she whispered. Santana was out of breath, her muscles loose from exertion.

From above Brittany's face she shook her head tiredly and whispered back.

"No. No, Britt. Thank you."


	3. Unicorn

Ch 3: Unicorn

The next morning Santana found the picture that Brittany had drawn her carefully taped to the inside of her locker door. It was, Santana had guessed right, the doodle that Brittany had been working on in history the day before.

_Lord Tubbington thinks you're purrrrrfect. And so do I. _

Santana grinned and reached in to fish out her English notes for first period.

"If that little piece of work thinks she is going to get Maria without a fight she has another thing coming to her. Seriously, Artie, if you pick Rachel I swear to god I'll..." Even with her head half immersed in her locker Santana picked up the ringing tones of Mercedes voice approaching.

"Mercedes you know that as the director I have to keep my relationship with my potential cast-members strictly formal for now. I'm making no promises." Santana ducked her face further into her locker as she heard the ticking of the wheels of Artie's wheelchair and hoped that they would pass by without speaking to her- she did not need another berating about the stupid pianos like she'd received earlier on in the car park care of Kurt and Rachel.

"You know Santana, I thought you would have at least thought about preserving the dignity of Blaine before doing what you did," Rachel had said. "Now everyone is going to look at him and see your ridicule of his performance rather than his potential to become my male lead."  
>"Your male lead?" Kurt had rounded on her with his eyebrows raised.<br>Santana had taken advantage of that moment to walk away, leaving them in front of her car bickering, completely obvious to her absence.

When Santana heard Artie's clicking wheels stop and caught a glimpse of his feet curled onto the wheelchair stirrups from below her locker door, Santana knew her escape wouldn't be as easy this time around. She huffed a sigh and banged the locker closed.

The thwaking sound made Artie jump and caused Mercedes to pull a face.

"Oh hell no. First Rachel and now her? Heeelllll no. I am not putting up with two divas in my first few hours at school. I'm out." She let go of Artie's wheelchair handles and strode away down the hall.

Santana turned to watch Mercedes go, ignoring Artie.

"Uh Santana?" Artie cleared his throat nervously. When she dragged her eyes back around to look at him he was blinking up at her, his gloved hands fiddling nervously with the bars on his wheels.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Look McCripple, I haven't got the time, the desire or the right dosage of sedatives to listen to you harp on about what happened yesterday. So please just...roll along." She flicked her fingers, directing him away but he held his ground, frowning so that his glasses dug into the bridge of his nose.

"No-no, it's not that I wanted to talk to you about." He hesitated. "Has Brittany mentioned anything to you about the school musical?"

Santana flinched. She did not think there was _anyone_ worse than Artie to talk about Brittany with. Even hearing her name on his lips made her insides curl. It was a similar feeling to the one she got every time she spotted the prom photo of them on Brittany's wall in her bedroom. His smile in that photo reminded her of Finn's gassy one and she almost always got the urge to go hang out with Brittany's toilet bowl whenever it caught her eye.

She held up a hand.

"Strike two four-eyes. You have one left and then I am going to go and get a full body sterilization bath to wash away the residue of this conversation."

He rolled his eyes.

"So your answer is no, she didn't tell you?"

"She did actually. She's going to audition for the roll of Diesel."

"Uh...okay. Well I was just wondering if you'd maybe considered auditioning too?"

Santana snorted. "For Diesel?"

"W-what? N-no." Then under his breath he muttered, "Gosh, you're not _that_ much of a lesbian."

Santana felt that like a smack across the face.

"Excuse me?" She bristled. "Strike three loser. I'm do-"

"I meant for Anita!" He raised his voice and his gloved hand caught her arm as she turned to leave.

"Anita?" Despite herself, Santana was intrigued.

"Yeah. She has some great lines and songs and I just thought- well you'd be perfect. I-I'm not just giving you the part, I have to confer with my producers over that one. But I'd love for you to audition. And this way you can still hang out with us glee club kids and sing and stuff until you decide if you want to come back or not. Mr Shue's not involved anymore so it's not like he'd care." He turned his wheel chair slightly more toward her, ducking his head to get her to look at him. Reluctantly, she obliged.

"I know we haven't... I mean, I know there's been a lot of..." He sighed and shook his head then tried again. "I know that it's over with Britt and me, and yeah I was sad for ages but she deserves to be happy. And even if the reason you are the one to make her happy confuses me as much as that time I tried to learn Pig-Klingon, I've accepted it. There's no point fighting what you can't change. So just think about it okay? I truly think you'd be great."

Santana dropped her eyes back to the floor. She had no words and Artie must have known that because she saw the small wheels of his chair turn and heard the bigger ones click as he wheeled away. When she looked up he had disappeared into the throng of students heading towards their classes.

/

Santana had decided to run laps during lunch to burn off the sinking feeling she'd gotten in second period when Brittany told her that she couldn't eat lunch with her because she had a glee club meeting.

She ran around the track once, twice, three times- until she lost count. When she stopped her legs and lungs were burning and she was sweating. She headed to the bleachers to her water bottle and noticed a girl in a Cheerio's uniform coming towards her with the long legged, ponytail swishing bounce that was Brittany's walk.

She approached Santana and stood in front of her with her feet pressed together. Her head swung back at the momentum of the grin that swept onto her face. Santana laughed and shook her head in bemusement.

"What are you so happy about Britt Britt?" She said, swallowing her gulp of water.

"Well," Brittany inhaled. "I now know who the President is which is nice. And also," She swung down onto the bench beside Santana, her ponytail whipping the scent of Santana's shampoo towards her. She'd used it in the shower this morning, with Santana's help. This memory made Santana momentarily lose track of the conversation.

"Hmm?"

"I said Kurt said he'd let me be his campaign manager for senior class president."

"That's great Britt." Santana fanned herself and took another swig of water.

"Yes. It's going to be unicorn themed. I gave him a brief outline of the essay that I've prepared for the unicorn Wikipedia page and even though he said it scared him, I think people have to know the truth. And Kurt is just so comfortable with who he is and I think that's part of what it takes to be a unicorn."

"If I were a mythological creature I'd be a sphinx," Santana mused.

"Well you could be a unicorn if you decided to talk about The Thing We Never Talk About."

"Britt..." Santana said warningly, shooting a glance around them. Luckily no one was in earshot.

"Sorry. I don't know what sphinxes are but I can _totally_ look them up in the mythical creatures Wikipedia portal and check how closely they're related to unicorns if you'd like me to."

Santana turned on the bench to face her, giving her a grateful smile.

"I actually have something to share as well."

"Oh you do? What is it?"

"I've decided to audition for the musical." Brittany tilted her head back and circled her fists around in a little groove. Then she held out one of them for a fist bump. Laughing, Santana obliged.

"That is super, _super _unicorn. Who are you auditioning for?"

Santana took a breath. She knew she was going to have to tell Brittany about what Artie had done, even if she despised having to say anything that made him look good.

"Artie actually asked me if I'd audition for Anita." Britt's eyes widened and she leant back, looking Santana up and down briefly.

"Ohhh totally. Yeah I can see that. Nice work Artie. I'm glad you're going to do it." She did another impromptu shoulder groove.

Santana had decided to audition during her run. As much as she tried to deny it, the prospect had caused excitement to swell within her. It also helped dull the guilt over what she'd done to the pianos. The mind numbing beat of her feet against the running track had allowed her to fantasize- she pictured the kick of the hem of her dress as she whirled on stage, curving her tongue around the Puerto Rican accent. The dance, the songs, the applause, it all rang in her head as she jogged around the track. And as she ran, she grinned to herself. _This_ was something she could do. _This _was something she could fight for.

"I better shower before fourth period," She said to Brittany, rising from the bench and holding out her pinkie.

They came to the door of the girls changing room and Santana unlinked their pinkies, brushing a quick kiss on Brittany's cheek. She pushed the door open but stopped short when she noticed Brittany moving to follow her.

"Wait," Santana put out a hand to halt her. "You're not coming in with me are you?"

Brittany shrugged and looked down at her hands.

"I liked the shower with you so much this morning that I thought we could do it again. I can just steal one of Coach Beiste's towels that she uses after weightlifting. She keeps them in the cupboard behind th-" Santana hurriedly clamped a hand down upon Brittany's moving lips as a group of athletics guys jostled past them and into the boys changing room. When their noise had been stifled by the closing door Santana removed her hand.

"Britt," she sighed and shook her head. "I can't do that. Not at school."

Brittany's cheeks were flushed. She looked stung.

"Okay that's fine. I've got to go and get a book out about historical presidential campaigns from the library anyway." She turned to go and Santana felt panic tear through her at Brittany's disappointment.

"Hey Britt! Hey, wait." She snatched Brittany's hand and squeezed, stepping closer and lowering her voice. The husk was there without her even having to try.

"Come over tonight. I'll rent West Side Story and we can decide what we want to wear to our auditions. Then later we can take however longer shower you want. Scratch that, we can take a bath. Candles, bubbles, sweet lady kisses?"

Brittany's smile was back. It made Santana ache.

"That sounds magical and _so_ tempting Santana but I'm going over to Kurt's to work on the campaign. I brought a unicorn headband from home and everything. Another night?"

"Yeah, Britt," Santana said, notching up her tone to hide the disappointment. "Another night for sure."

"Bye Santana."

Santana watched Britt leave, feeling the guilt she thought she'd escaped during her run press upon her again. When Brittany had gone out of sight Santana turned and pushed open the changing room door. Inside it was deserted and it stayed that way the whole time Santana was in the shower. Its emptiness filled with all the taunting possibilities of what she could have been doing with Brittany if she hadn't been so lame. If she had been more of a unicorn.

/

The next day Santana found herself pacing nervously in the wings of the auditorium. She wasn't entirely sure why she was there, and though it seemed like a good idea during her run, it felt ridiculous and lame now. Behind her, features tight with concentration, Rachel was running her voice up and down the scale, her fingers tightly jammed in her ears.

"Hey Snooki, you might want to take your fingers out of your ears so you can _hear _yourself," Santana called over to her. Rachel snapped open her eyes, stopped llaa-ing and removed her fingers from her ears.

"Santana I'm trying to focus. In order to do that I mustn't be able to hear anything except my own inner conscious. Please leave me alone." Her voice was coated with an odd strain and her eyes were puffy and red.

"You've been crying," Santana said matter-of-factly. Rachel's fingers were halfway back up to her ears but she dropped them, sliding her eyes away from Santana's.

"Yes," she replied stiffly.

The sound of Puck's voice, raised in a poor attempt at a Puerto Rican accent, drifted from the stage and over to them. He was auditioning for Bernardo. Santana laughed and rolled her eyes at the sound. Rachel remained still.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh come on," Santana snapped, putting her hands on her hips. "You look like you've just been told that the Muppets aren't looking for a Jewish member. I'm going to suggest you try Sesame Street, they're much more accepting."

"My Mom is working at McKinley, heading a glee club for that Sugar girl," Rachel dead-panned. Santana let her self-amused smile fall.

"Oh."

"Yep." Rachel shifted off the stool and padded lightly nearer the stage to look out at Puck. "She brought Beth too obviously."

"Jesus." Santana muttered, remembering Quinn. Santana _still _hadn't really tried to get her to come around. She'd approached her once but their conversation didn't get very far because Quinn's group of skanks joined them and Santana, preferring to avoid a second bout of herpes, had left.

"It must be real confusing for you."

Rachel shrugged. "A shock. But all the best stars have complicated pasts. I mean look at Natalie Wood who played Maria in the 1961 film of West Side Story. Her Grandfather was murdered after a disagreement with the Russian mafia."

"Wasn't she murdered too?"

"Well, she drowned, but there is a popular conspiracy that..."

"Okay, okay." Santana held up her hand. "Forget I asked."

"My point is that I can be sad and confused about Shelby or I can channel all my feelings about it in order to get closer to the emotional truth of my songs." Rachel had resumed her briskness alarmingly quickly but it was sort of comforting to Santana- she preferred to ignore the fact that Rachel was a human with actual feelings.

"You should take a leaf out of my book," Rachel said.

"I'd rather d-"

"I know, I know," Rachel interrupted, holding up her hand. "I-I just think that you can totally take all that...erm...rage...and put it into your songs rather than into bitchy, albeit freakishly well choreographed acts of arson."

Santana snorted. "Yeah?"

Rachel opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Puck coming off stage.

"I nailed that almost as hard as I've nailed you Santana."

"Shut it ass face," she snapped.

"Nah, nah. I'm sorry. You're up next, Artie told me to tell you. Good luck!"

"Good luck Santana!" Their voices sounded muffled as all the blood rushed to Santana's ear drums. Her stomach was knotted in on itself and she slid her palms down the sides of her dress to dry them.

She walked onto the stage, away from Rachel and Puck and stood blinking in the spot light. She could just make out the figures of Coach Beiste, Artie and Miss Pillsbury sitting in the judges' booth. Artie leaned forwards and pulled the microphone on the desk towards him.

"Good to see you made it Santana. What are you going to sing for us?"

She'd chosen _A Boy Like That, _one she'd be required to sing if she got the part.

Artie made a note on the pad in front of him.

"Great," Miss Pillsbury smiled. "Whenever you're ready."

Santana closed her eyes and blanked her mind.  
>Then she filled it with colour. Red.<br>It was the colour of fire and glamorous lipstick and passion and romance. It was the colour of Brittany's moans as Santana drifted like smoke across her body. It was the colour of everything she'd ever wanted to say but just _couldn't. _She sung in the colour red. Even if that didn't quite make sense and even though the words of the song meant something different. She used her voice to colour them.

/

Brittany's cheeks were burnt with shame as she stood in front of Santana, forlornly clutching one of the Unicorn posters she'd made the night before at Kurt's house. The same poster that Kurt had just yelled at her to take down.

"I've failed my precious unicorn," she mumbled. Santana could have hit Hummel as he stormed off in the other direction with Rachel, his ridiculous white leather boots squeaking on the linoleum of the school corridor. Around them, dozens of bright pink unicorn posters like the one Brittany was clutching shone on the walls due to all the glitter Brittany had scattered over them. Santana's hands were covered with the stuff.

"No. Ugh, look, this campaign is brilliant."

"Really?" Brittany's mouth hardly moved and her eyes searched Santana's sceptically.

"Completely. And if he," she jerked her head back in the direction Kurt had gone, "doesn't get it then he doesn't deserve to have you as his campaign manager."

Brittany didn't look convinced. Santana softened her voice and stepped closer, searching for the right words.

"There's no one like you. You're a genius Brittany. _You_ are the unicorn."

The smile came slowly to Brittany's features. But when it did, Santana felt herself constrict at the way it rearranged Brittany's sad face. Satisfied, she turned and headed for the door, holding out a pinkie for Britt.

After a few steps Santana stopped and looked back. Brittany hadn't moved, her eyes were glazed over but the smile remained.

"Britt Britt? Come on, it's Sweet Valley High time."

When Brittany fell into step beside Santana she nudged her with a shoulder. Santana looked up into that 1000 watt smile and felt her legs weaken slightly.

"Thank you for saying that."

"Don't thank me. The truth doesn't cost a thing."

"No but. You were right and I've had an idea that I should run for senior class president."

"You are definitely unicorn enough," Santana agreed.

"It's settled then," Brittany said.

They reached the car park and arrived in front of Santana's black Nissan. Santana fished her keys out of her pocket and unlocked it, sliding into its stuffy interior. As she started the car and moved out of the car park Brittany wound down her window and set her legs up to it, resting her ankles on the ledge.

"This is going to be great. We've only ever had guy presidents as far back as I can remember," Santana said- trying not to let the bare stretch of Brittany's thigh distract her from the road.

"The last one was definitely a guy. I know because I slept with him," Brittany said.

"Brad Mitchell?" Santana asked. "Me too."

They caught one another's eye and began to laugh.

/

They had already planned the layout for Brittany's campaign posters when they reached Santana's house. The garage was empty so Santana parked her car in her Dad's spot and they headed up to her room.

"You know what you could do?" Santana said, dropping her bag on the floor and spinning excitedly to Brittany.

"Feed bananas to my sea monkeys? No, I've tried that already."

Santana blinked. "What? No. But I totally think the theme- other than unicorns- should be like... Girl power."

Brittany was sucking on a strand of her hair in a business like way.

"_Totally_. It can be like lady take over." She did jazz hands through the air in front of her face.

"Yeah! And we could try organising a flash mob to get the ball rolling!" Santana was way more into this than she had thought she would be. But then again, this was_ Brittany_ they were talking about.

"Yeah_! Totally!_" Brittany spat the lock of hair out and paused, her eyes darting across Santana's body. Her expression became shy suddenly and she sidled closer to Santana, reaching out to tug at one of the flaps of Santana's Cheerios skirt.

_"_You have glitter all over you," she said, smiling faintly.

Santana felt her temperature rise at the husk in Brittany's voice.

"So do you," she said slowly, trying to read Brittany's expression.

"You know what would be really unicorn right now?" Brittany's voice was so soft Santana had to strain to hear.

"What?" She mouthed.

"If we did what you suggested last time and um...Take a bath to...you know..." Santana's insides twitched.

"To...wash all this glitter off?" She finished.

Brittany's smile was all across her face as she nodded slowly, tugging Santana by her Cheerios skirt towards the bathroom.


	4. Girls

**Note:**

**Hello! :) I fired this one off quick because I have a lot of spare time at the moment and I'm trying to get as much done as I can before I go away over christmas and have no internet for awhile. **

**This is the 1st of two chapters devoted to the events surrounding episode 3 and I'll try get the next one up before I go away. **

**Thanks for your interest so far. Feedback is always appreciated! **

**Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from New Zealand! **

**Ch 4: Girls**

Santana awoke with a start, ejected sharply from her dream for no particular reason. She lay still for a moment, blinking at her ceiling. She could tell that it was very early in the morning by the stillness of the air and the eerie blue light that pressed through her curtains.

Still drowsy, she moved closer to the girl lying next to her. Santana could smell the musk of sleep on her skin, and the perfume of her hair. She gently pulled Brittany's limp form around and planted a kiss on her slack mouth. Then she pulled her lips back to trail them down Brittany's neck, one hand slipping beneath the blankets to the unbelievably soft skin on her breasts. When Brittany didn't stir Santana leaned further over her and took one nipple into her mouth, freeing her other hand from the blankets to trail it up the arc of Brittany's thigh. She inched her fingers upwards and tugged aside Brittany's underwear, stroking back and forth up and down her folds.

A shiver rippled through Santana and she took a jagged breath, pressing her lips to the soft skin behind Brittany's ear where the scent of her hair was strongest.

It was when she had dragged her lips down to the hollow at the curve of Brittany's jaw that Santana felt Brittany's pulse surge from its steady sleeping rhythm to a rabbit's scamper. Brittany's breathing pattern broke too and the sound of her moan, still coated with sleep, made Santana's insides liquefy. She shifted under Santana's lips, threading her arms around Santana's waist and shoulders.

"Good morning," she mumbled. In reply, Santana kissed her.

She upped the insistence and frequency of her finger strokes, edging her fingertips against Brittany's clit.

Brittany gasped like she'd been doused in cold water. Santana pressed her open mouth against Brittany's, feeling the hot slip of their tongues everywhere at once. Then she drew her fingers away, running them along the line of Brittany's underwear. Brittany groaned, milling her hips and pulling Santana closer.

"Please," she whispered. Santana grinned and drew her hand away altogether.

"What's the magic word?"

"Hmm? I just said it." Brittany clutched tighter around Santana's shoulders.

"Again." Santana commanded, her hand sweeping up Brittany's bare stomach.

"Please?" Brittany's voice was soft. Pleading.

Santana leant down and kissed her again, soft and slow. She shifted Brittany's underwear to one side and pressed her fingers into the wetness. Brittany's hips curved up to meet them and as Santana sank knuckle deep into Brittany, she had to close her eyes in wonder.

/

Santana was still lying in Brittany's bed when Brittany bounced back from her shower still in her pyjamas, clutching her towel.

"Did you forget how to get the water to go hot again?" Santana asked, sitting up against the pillows.

Brittany perched on the end of the bed, pursed her lips and shook her head. She looked as though she had something to say- as though the task of keeping it in was taking all her concentration. Santana nudged Brittany with her foot.

"What's up?"

"I just heard the _coolest _thing."

"Oh?"

"My leprechaun was singing in the shower," Brittany said proudly. Santana scowled.

She'd met said leprechaun the night before when she'd joined Brittany's family for dinner. He was weedy and shy, with a droopy-eyed smile that irked Santana more than she could say. Especially when it was directed at Brittany- which far too often, it was. She'd even been put off her plate of potato salad which Brittany's Mom usually made a point of serving because she knew Santana liked it. Last night however, Brittany's Mom only had eyes for Rory as he spooned some onto his plate, saying she hoped it met his potato cuisine standards.

Santana had to admit, Brittany's Mom was a little racist when it came to food and ethnicity. She was convinced Santana was an expert on all dishes Mexican, Moroccan, Indian and Italian- as though Santana's olive skin made her a hybrid of all four. Mrs Pierce meant well, but her earnestness around the dorky little Irish sprite at her dinner table had made Santana want to puke.

"He's such a good singer too," Brittany was saying. She hadn't taken any notice of Santana's disgust, too caught up in a sudden wave of inspiration. "Oh. My. Gosh. I just had the best idea I think I've ever had. You know how Rory is a good singer?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"I believe you _just_ established that."

"Huh? Oh, right. Well, where do all the good singers go at McKinley?" Santana took in the excited sheen in Brittany's eyes with a completely contradictory feeling rising in her stomach. Brittany didn't wait for Santana's answer.

"Glee club!" She exclaimed. "We _totally _have to get Rory to join. He can sprinkle us all with magic dust so we win sectionals!"

"You have _that _much faith in his magic powers?" Brittany still was ignoring Santana's hard tone.

"I believe that he can do magic of course! How else did he know that Dots were my favourite candy? He brought me the _biggest box _yesterday."

"Uh. Maybe because you eat them like _all the time_?" Santana snapped. "Anyone with a working pair of eyes could figure that one out."

"Maybe but. That still doesn't explain how he got out off the coo-coo clock does it?"

It took a lot, but Santana bit back her retort. If it had been anyone else she would have berated them into a snivelling mess. But as always, she never had the heart when it came to Brittany. Either that or she had too much heart.

"Rory's first day got postponed till next week but I'm going to convince him to join even before he starts," Brittany said, standing up from the bed and giving Santana's foot under the blankets a tug. "You'd better get up. I'm going to go use Mom and Dad's shower but Rory shouldn't be long."

She swept back out of the room, leaving Santana alone in her bed. All the post-sex happiness was gone from Santana's mood. She could feel thunder clouds of annoyance rolling over her and it was all she could do to contain the urge to strangle Rory when she heard the bathroom door click open and his voice fill the hall way. She recognised the words of the U2 song and would have scoffed at the irony if it wasn't for the realisation that Brittany had been right. The kids voice was high and slightly girlish- like an irish version of Justin Bieber- pre the Great Ball-Drop of '11- but it was in tune. _Very_ in tune.

/

Mr Shue's office had the same glass panels on either side of the door like Miss Pillsbury's did. As she approached, Santana could see him through one of the panels, sitting at his desk, looking down at a stack of papers with the end of his pen in his mouth.

She raised her fist against the door and paused, her stomach all tied in knots. They hadn't spoken since he'd kicked her out of glee club, and back then his abruptness had completely thrown her- making her feel childish and pathetic. Her hesitance lasted until she remembered the sound of that stupid kid singing in Brittany's hallway and then her fist was practically assaulting the wood of Mr Shue's door.

"Come in," she heard him call.

"Santana, this is a nice surprise. Take a seat."

Santana dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk, feeling the words she had practiced flee from her at the sight of him. Mr Shue folded his hands, smiling close-lipped and expectant.

"I want to rejoin glee club." Santana said quickly. The confidence she'd forced into her voice made it sound hollow and high. She tried to loosen the smile on her face and make it less manic as Mr Shue tilted his head to look at her. He brought his hands twisted together up to his face and put the knuckle of his index finger to his lips.

"Why?" He asked after a beat.

"Look Mr Shue, I understand the fact that you give Finn solos is because you've had to find a place to channel your weird fetish for baby giants. And I get now that your affinity with Rachel has to do with the fact that you both must attend the same support group for people with unusually large facial features." She let her eyes circle his chin. "I'm not passing any judgement I just..."

Mr Shue rolled his eyes and then slammed his clamped hands down on the top of his desk so hard that his mug of pens jumped off the table and fell to the floor. Santana flinched.

"Enough! Santana. Enough. You haven't learnt a thing have you?" He shook his head sadly. "I will not allow you to rejoin glee club if you think it's acceptable to come into my office and insult me into letting you back in."

"Mr Shue, you have clear favourites and no one else ever gets a look in!" She snapped- anger hot across her cheeks.

"_Don't_ interrupt me again or you can get out of my office!" He pointed at the door, but his glaring eyes remained on her. "You have constantly walked all over those kids when all they have ever tried to do is include and embrace you for who you are."

"I don't need a bunch of losers singing and dancing to embrace me."

"Oh yes you do Santana," Mr Shue raised his voice over hers, his eyes slightly wild. "You do or else you wouldn't keep on coming back. And I'll give you a piece of advice," he said, leaning in closer to her face. "Every hateful, mean, rude word out of your mouth does nothing but convince everyone in glee club that those words are more to do with how little you think of _yourself_ rather than anyone else."

Santana sat stunned, horror shooting through her as she realised that tears were rising up fast in her throat. She swallowed awkwardly and blinked down at the pens scattered on the carpet. When she trusted herself to speak again she lifted her heavy eyes and looked at Mr Shue.

"I-" she cleared her throat. "I'll work harder. If you give me another chance. I'll join booty camp and I'll practise more and I'll help organise the costumes we need and stuff."

Mr Shue sighed and rolled his eyes away. Santana realised with a rise of nausea that he was unimpressed.

"No, Mr Shue wait," she said quickly, "before you say it isn't good enough, I just mean that I know you give solos to the people who work the hardest and contribute most to the group and so I'll try harder."

Mr Shue looked back at her, his features still hard. Santana met his eyes and waited.

"You can rejoin glee club," He said finally, his voice edged with annoyance. "But you won't get a solo until you can prove to me that glee club takes precedence over Sue's attempts to pull it apart."

"How am I supposed to do that?" She snapped irritably, following him with her eyes as he stood and opened his office door for her to leave.

"Figure it out yourself Santana."

She got up and swung her bag back over her shoulder and had only taken two steps out of his office when she heard the door snap closed behind her.

/

That afternoon when Santana headed to the auditorium for her first session of booty camp, her mood had worsened even more. As it turned out, rejoining glee club meant she had _give up_ time with Brittany instead of making sure that stupid leprechaun didn't use his voice to magic his way into her pants. But in order to prove to Mr Shue she gave a rats ass about his stupid 80's choreography she'd had to miss the meeting Brittany had called at her place to prepare the Cheerios for her 'Girl Power' flash mob.

The half constructed pieces of set for the musical had been pushed to the back of the stage and the glee club members had gathered in the clear space that was left. As Santana approached them she saw Finn catch sight of her and nudge Puck who grinned and gave her the thumbs up. Tina was the next to see her.

"Santana! Hey!" She waved.

"Wow," Santana arrived on stage and cast a look around them in their dancing gear. "You guys look like extras in one of those early morning infomercials for 'do it yourself' exercise equipment. Extras in the _before _scenes I mean."

"Nice to see you too," Mike said, rolling his eyes and bending to stretch. Behind him, Santana caught sight of Quinn- her hair back to blond and her face clear of the heavy make up.

"Quinn?" Santana was surprised. "Or are you still going by Ozzy Osbourne?"

Quinn shook her head, flashing her famous plastic smile which Santana modelled her own after back in middle school.

"No, I'm just...Quinn." She shrugged. "I guess I just couldn't stay away."

/

The whole school had risen to its feet and the gym walls rattled as the speakers surged music through its beams. On the gym floor, the Cheerios squad moved as one- a mass of red and whipping skirt flaps.

From the stands, Santana glanced to the row behind her to see Kurt's reaction. He had the fear of God in his eyes as he realised Brittany was a far more formidable opponent than he'd bargained for.

Satisfied by his terror, Santana trained her eyes back to the heart of the dancers where Brittany was a whirl of blond hair and curving limbs and long black boots. Santana knew she had to be careful not to get too caught up in what Brittany was doing in case she missed the cue for her solo, but it was hard. Brittany's high-waisted leather skirt revealed every inch of her thighs and her red top clung to her breasts, slipping down one shoulder.

The gym floor became more and more crowded as girls threaded their way from the stands to join the dance. Santana felt them moving past her but she kept her eyes glued to Brittany, pride purring in her chest. She waited for her musical cue and when it came, she rose, nodding to the Cheerios on either side of her. They rose as one and moved down toward the dancers.

Santana's voice, magnified by the microphone clipped to her uniform, swelled above the music to intertwine with Brittany's. The rush of exhilaration almost swept her voice away as their bodies brushed past one another on Santana's way into position.

Santana felt almost crushed by the energy of the dance as more and more people ran to join them. She was having trouble deciding which was more satisfying- the fact that the mood of the dance had spread like wild fire, infecting even the likes of Coach Sue and Rachel Berry, or that the girl in the centre of the dance- with every eye following the swing of her hips- had just the night before rolled those same hips underneath the brush of Santana's fingertips, barely able to utter a word.

The last few beats of the song were drowned out by screams and applause as three quarters of the girls in the school crowded in a circle around Brittany, crushing against one another to get closer. Santana stood amongst the nearest of them and it was all she could do not to kiss Brittany right there in front of them all. But she settled for being the first face Brittany gave her breathless smile to.

/

"Kiss me," were the first words out of Brittany's mouth as they tumbled together through the doors of the girls changing room. Santana could tell the words had come sweeping off Brittany's wave of post-dance confidence and exhilaration. Normally she would never have said them.

Santana shot a look around the empty changing room, hesitating, but Brittany impatiently placed her hands on either side of Santana's face and pulled it straight, aligning Santana's gaze with her own. Their eyes locked and the warm leather of Brittany's gloves stuck to Santana's cheeks.

"Kiss me." Brittany repeated, stepping closer until she had gently pressed Santana's back against the lockers, pinning her there with the length of her body. In her boots Brittany was even taller than usual so Santana's eyes were level with her lips.

"Britt-"

"Kiss me." Brittany's voice lost none of its force, and her gaze lost none of its intensity. Santana's heart rate climbed, beating fear and arousal in equal doses through her veins.

"I can't- We..."

The sheer force of Brittany's kiss caused her body to come crushing against Santana's, knocking it back against the lockers with a clang. Santana's shock lasted only a second and then her mouth was kissing Brittany back just as hard, her arms locking Brittany against her. Brittany deepened the kiss at Santana's response and her hands were more daring than they had ever been- one confidently seeking Santana's bare thigh under her skirt while the other swept over the curve of her breast.

"Britt-" It wasn't hesitant this time- it was urgent, pleading.

Brittany responded by groaning against Santana's lips and kissing her deeper. Their tongues came together messily in their haste to have more of one another. Brittany bent her knees and coiled her fingers under the tight fabric of Santana's spankies and then, after an agonising, fumbling moment- they were inside of her. Santana would have fallen if it wasn't for Brittany's body anchoring her against the lockers. Brittany wouldn't let her breathe, deepening her kiss with each thrust of her fingers until it was all Santana could do not to black out.

Then, in a whirl of laughter and footstep, the door of the changing room began to edge open. Fear seized Santana with such force that there was no break between the passion and the panic. She pushed with all her strength against Brittany and felt a stab of pain as Brittany's fingers were wrenched abruptly out of her. The push sent Brittany stumbling backwards, sprawling onto the floor. Santana turned abruptly away, adjusting her skirt. Less than a split second later door was open fully and Mercedes, Tina and Quinn's voices filled the small space.

"Oh, hey guys," Santana whirled to them and smiled brightly. She didn't dare look to see if Brittany had righted herself.

Quinn's gaze, sharp and calculating, played across the space between Santana and Brittany, sweeping back and forth from Brittany getting gingerly off the floor to Santana's flushed face and dishevelled ponytail. Santana could almost see her creating a mental connect-the-dots picture.

"You okay Britt?" Tina stepped towards Brittany in concern. Dimly, Santana turned her tongue over possible excuses but they all died as she caught the look Quinn and Mercedes shot one another. It seemed to last for one long, cold stretch of time. It was a look that contained a whole conversation- and a definite conclusion- the tiniest nod on Mercedes part before it disconnected.


	5. Just Take The Money And Run

**Note: Ah, just in time! This'll be my last post till sometime after xmas. I hope you enjoy it! **

**If there are any suggestions, things I can improve on or things you'd like to see just let me know and I'll see what I can do!**

**Once again, Merry Christmas! **

**Ch 5: Just Take the Money and Run**

"Step-ball-change. Step. Ball. Change. Jesus, Finn. It's not that _hard. _You make it look like you're chasing after small children."

For some reason unbeknownst to her, God was trying to punish Santana.

While they waited for Mr Shue to arrive to properly start that afternoon's booty camp, Mike had put them in pairs- one good dancer with one more _challenged_ dancer to practice what they'd learnt at the last lesson.

Santana's golden luck had gotten the most challenged of the them all. Finn in his too tight t-shirt that made his bare white arms look like uncooked sausages. Finn who used his feet like bricks and his limbs like heavy machinery. Finn who kept stepping on her toes.

"Oh for the love of…" she threw her hands up as pain shot up her foot. Her pinkie toe was throbbing in her sneaker and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry." Finn fussed around her.

"Move." She pushed him aside and wound her way through the other glee club pairings until she got to the back of the stage and perched on a spare chair someone had left there. Gingerly, she massaged her foot through her sneaker.

Nearby, Brittany stood in front of Puck. She counted and nodded her head with each number as she watched him go through the sequence of steps. She was a much better teacher than Santana, and her look of concentration- her puckered lips and slightly wrinkled forehead- was super cute.

"Puck you are getting really good at this!" She said brightly, nodding as Puck step-ball-changed in one fluid, easy motion.

"Tina, take off the hat," Quinn snapped from where she stood with Tina on the other side of Puck and Brittany. Tina had on a brown fluffy hat that looked to Santana like someone had scalped a bear and sold it to her. It was too big for Tina, drooping over her eyes so that she kept messing up her timing to push it back up.

"No….no…. Kurt…" Mike was at the very front of the stage, manhandling Kurt's jazz hands away.

"Jesus this glee club is in ruins," Santana muttered to herself, watching Mercedes hop around like a broken robotic dog.

"Okay, okay guys!" Mr Shue walked onto the stage, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. He had them line up and perform the Widow-Maker, their homework assignment. Santana had been able to do it since she was nine, but she knew for some of the other members it would take every nugget of their precious little brain power.

Mike and Mr Shue prowled between them, tapping out the people who did it right. Brittany was the first tapped. Then Quinn and Santana, followed by Tina. Brittany shot Santana a grin as they walked to the back of the stage together.

Santana could tell Mr Shue and Mike had taken pity on some of the others, settling simply for moves that didn't make them want to gouge their eyes out. At that lower standard, Kurt and Puck were tapped, leaving only Finn and Mercedes.

"This is embarrassing," Quinn muttered under her breath as Finn and Mercedes lumbered through the move again and again. Santana nodded at Quinn. Beside them, Brittany was frowning, her bottom lip pushed out.

"It's not very fair of Mr Shue to push Mercedes like that," she whispered. "She's not flexible enough to get the move right. She's like my Holiday Barbie who wouldn't bend her knees. I tried to get them to bend so much that I snapped off her legs. Then I had Paraplegic Barbie which wasn't okay because she didn't have a wheelchair and all my other Barbie's excluded her. Mercedes needs to keep her legs," She pouted.

Right on cue, Mercedes bent over, puffing. "My ankle hurts."

"See," muttered Brittany. "They'll break soon." Santana stifled a smile and tried to mirror Brittany's seriousness so that she felt better.

"Mercedes legs won't break, I promise."

"I don't feel so good," Mercedes moaned, doubled over and clutching her stomach. Santana and Quinn rolled their eyes to meet each other's, and Santana was reminded of the look she'd witnessed between Mercedes and Quinn the day before. She was relieved to be the participant rather than the subject this time.

"NO, I'M NOT FINE!"

They all jumped as Mercedes voice echoed through the auditorium.

"Oh Christ," Puck muttered. Everyone's eyes were on Mercedes, standing with her face like thunder, her hands on her hips. Mr Shue had his hands up and his voice low, appeasing. But Mercedes was on a roll.

"Everyone knows that Rachel is your favourite," she snapped, glaring at Mr Shue.

"That's not tr-"

"No, it _is_ true! You give that skinny Geronimo-wearing ass kisser everything. And you know, for two years I took it! But not anymore. I'm _done_."

Santana couldn't watch any more. She dropped her eyes to the stage floor from sheer awkwardness. It was not only that Mercedes voice rang uncomfortably loudly in the silence, but also that Santana knew what she was saying was true, she'd said it to Mr Shue herself only a couple of days ago. It made Santana just as sick as Mercedes to see Rachel's baboon-ass ego become more and more inflamed with every solo that Mr Shue gave her.

And besides, where _was_ Rachel? She should have been the one cleaning under Finns blubber rolls, and dodging his hooves, not Santana.

There was violent clash as Mercedes sent a music stand flying and spun on her heel, gesturing towards where Santana and the rest of the club stood.

"You know, I've out grown _all_ of you."

"Mercedes…" Brittany started, her voice small. She stepped forwards, looking pained, but Mr Shue cut her off.

"Mercedes! You walk out that door and you're out of glee club." His eyes were wild like they had been in his office and Mercedes stopped in her tracks, her back to them.

"It's over then." She said. And walked out of the auditorium.

Beside her, Santana heard Brittany whimper. She reached out to her, linking their pinkies and tried to smile reassuringly. Finn hung his head in his hands and Tina started to blubber. Mike was at her side in an instant, kissing the tears off her cheeks.

Santana turned away, resisting the urge to vomit.

"Come on guys," Mr Shue's voice was hollow, but he mustered up the effort to clap his hands and look slightly purposeful.

"Mr Shue," Brittany put up a hand.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if it would be okay if I left now because I'm sad. But I don't want to be kicked out of glee club." It would have sounded like a dig had it anyone else said it, but in Britt's shaky voice, with her doe-eyes and pinched lips, it was endearing.

At her words, Mr Shue's effort visibly deflated. He turned away from them and waved his hand.

"Booty camp is over for today. See you in the choir room tomorrow for practice."

/

"Come on guys, I know it _seems _bad, but it isn't the end of the world." Blaine flashed his personal Colgate-ad around the table at them. It gave Santana the urge to hit him but she sipped her coffee and settled for glaring instead.

"Who died and made you the single most annoying person in the world. Not Rachel, that's for sure," she snapped.

For not the first time that evening Santana wondered why she'd inflicted upon herself the hell of sitting at the Lima Bean with Finn, Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, and Tina. Brittany had said she'd join them after she'd bathed Lord Tubbington but they'd been here for long enough for Santana to use up all her patience and eat most of the brownie she'd brought for them to share and she still hadn't showed.

"How about," Kurt leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table, "we organise a wee get together to really pull the loyal members of New Directions closer together. It could be like a-a-"

"A Broadway themed game of Cluedo?" Rachel asked her eyes as wet and wide as a hopeful puppy. Santana shot her the filthiest look she could muster.

"Or Scrabble! I'm not too picky!" Rachel said hurriedly, catching the look.

"Rach, no. No, no." Kurt placed a hand on her arm. "I was thinking, something like...A cocktail party!" He grinned around at them. "Everyone could make up their own cocktail and bring it for everyone to try. And we can have karaoke and nibbles and just have a good laugh together. No booty camp or battles for solos. Just us. Having fun." There was a pause where everyone considered. Santana's eyes drifted to the door.

"Well… I do like the idea of a get together…" Tina said slowly. "But...but…"Her voice wavered and then she wailed shrilly, "it just won't be the same without Mercedes!"

"Oh for the love of…" Santana had half risen from her chair when the doorbell clanged and Brittany swept into the Lima Bean. She'd changed out of her Cheerios uniform into a loose cream knitted sweater and jean shorts.

"Hey guys!" She said, brightly, spotting them and waving.

Santana watched Brittany approach- almost certain she was bringing the sun in tow.

"Oh," Britt stopped at the opposite end of the table from Santana as she registered Tina's hysterics. She bent down to her and tugged on one of the ears of Tina's bear hat. "Did you release that Winnie died so you could wear this?"

Tina looked up, sniffing. "W-what?"

"Ah actually Britt, we were just talking about having a cocktail party at my place to bring the New Directions closer together," Kurt said stiffly, eyeing the sobbing Tina like she was about to explode. Santana couldn't blame him, it all seemed a bit ridiculous.

"What, like, an orgy?" Brittany asked, swinging herself down into a chair beside Tina. Santana snorted and nearly choked on her coffee.

"Brittany, not every social event involving alcohol has to turn into a sex riot. Some of us have self-control." Rachel tsked. Brittany blinked at her.

"Um, excuse me?" Santana leant forward to eye Rachel. "That's rich coming from you Miss Get-Drunk-Off-Half-A-Wine-Cooler-And-Wet-Herself-Over-A-Kiss-With-A-Gay-Guy."

"That was one time!" Rachel snapped, going red. A few seats down Blaine turned to stare pointedly out the window. Kurt's laugh was high and forced.

"Who likes my cocktail idea?" He said, looking around eagerly. Finn, Rachel, Blaine and Brittany put up their hands. Tina just kept blubbering. Santana sighed and raised hers too.

"It's settled then!' Kurt clapped his hands. "I'll have to start planning tonight if we want this to happen on the weekend so unfortunately there won't be time for mailed invitations which I think are far classier than an invite over Facebook. However, sacrifices will be made for the sake of urgency."

Rachel piped up that she could supply the martini glasses- she had been given a whole set in her Christmas stocking from her Dads last year which had her face printed on them. Finn added that he could make grilled cheese for nibbles which earned him a withering look from Kurt.

As ideas were passed back and forth around the table, Santana's gaze wandered to where Brittany sat, following the conversation around her, laughing and nodding, while her hands idly played with an empty sugar sachet. Santana let her eyes linger idly across Brittany's face- a luxury she never usually allowed herself unless Brittany was asleep. But she felt bold because the rest of the table were too busy peeing themselves with excitement to notice and the way Brittany swept a hand through her loose hair, pushing it off her face, made Santana melt.

/

When the ideas for the cocktail party reached an inexcusable level of lameness, Santana slid back her chair and stood up.

"As much as this is just..._thrilling_, I have a wall of paint that I need to watch dry. I'll eagerly await my golden ticket to Kurt's Gayland on Facebook. Adiós." She wiggled her fingers at them and headed for the door.

She was halfway across the parking lot when she heard footsteps skittering across the concrete behind her.

"Santana, wait!" At Brittany's voice, Santana stilled and squeezed her eyes closed briefly. Then she turned and gave her a smile.

"Hey Britt Britt. You want a ride home?" Brittany shook her head.

"No, I can't go home."

"Why not?" Santana frowned.

"Because I used up all of Mom's special anti-aging shampoo on Lord Tubbington and she yelled at me."

Santana stopped laughing when she caught Brittany pursing her lips together and twisting them to the side in guilt.

"Aw, I'm sure she'll get over it. Wanna come stay at mine tonight? I've still got your Sweet Valley High DVDs." She tried to keep her tone casual, but for some reason she couldn't look at Brittany's face.

"Oh! I was wondering where those had gone, I was going to ask Mrs Higgins next door if she'd stolen them like she steals coupons from our mail box. And sure, I'd love to come over."

They walked together to Santana's car and Santana felt the evening around her open up and flood with possibilities. Everything from the inky doodles on Brittany's hands to the half-undone laces of her chucks made Santana grin giddily. She shook herself. What was _wrong _with her today?

"Wait." Brittany had fallen behind Santana, her eyes narrowed.

"How far ahead of me are you on Sweet Valley High?"

Santana knew she was crazy for noticing it, but the evening sunlight lit Brittany's hair all shades of gold and made her eyes a brilliant blue. Before she could stop herself, Santana had stepped forward and threaded her finger through one of the belt loops of Brittany's shorts, pulling her forward until their hips were pressed against one another.

"Not a single minute," she said softly.

"Ladies!"

It was almost a repeat of the locker room incident. Santana jerked Brittany away, her cheeks on fire as Rachel trotted across the car park toward them. She had a paper napkin in each hand, extending one to Brittany and one to Santana but her arms dropped as her eyes swept over them- almost as calculating as Quinn's had been the day before.

Santana felt her heart rate quicken. This _was _a freaking repeat of the locker rooms. Why did she have to be so careless? It was as though whenever she was around Brittany she developed a weird form of Romance- Tourette's. God knows she would rather have the kind where people swore randomly and twitched- that was just the average conversation at a Lopez family gathering- instead of these fits of sentimentality that randomly burst forth in the worst and most public of places.

Brittany was peering at the napkin, oblivious to Rachel staring at them.

"You wrote my name wrong," she said, pointing to the napkin in Rachel's left hand. Rachel started and looked blearily down to where Brittany was pointing.

"Huh? Oh! Oh, the to-do list!" Santana was more than relieved as Rachel snapped back into business mode. "And no, I didn't spell your name wrong." She turned the napkin to face her, frowning down at it.

"You're supposed to address me as Miss President."

"Right. Well, for the sake of fairness to Kurt, I'll refrain from calling either of you Miss President until the election is over."

"As far as I'm concerned it's already over," Santana said. Rachel ignored her, thrusting the napkins towards them once again. Santana took hers and held it gingerly by its edges.

"It stinks of you Berry," she sniffed.

"They're hastily composed because we wanted everyone organised tonight so we had to hurry to catch you guys."

Santana looked at her list. "Chic decorations?"

"Hey! Mine says that too," Brittany jabbed a finger at her own napkin.

"Y-yes, we tried to give all the couples the same tasks so that-" Santana stiffened, her muscles clenching in shock.

"Are you effing serious?" She cut angrily across Rachel, stepping closer and dropping the napkin at Rachel's feet. "You know, I would punch you in the face if I had conclusive proof your nose wasn't the thing actually responsible for sinking the Titanic. I'd prefer for my fist not to join it at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"What? why?" Rachel spluttered. "I-I didn't mean to…offend you or anything San-"

"Didn't mean - hah," Santana threw her head back, strangled sarcastic laughter leaving her throat. Beside her, Brittany was silent, her eyes on her napkin.

"Get your Furby army to do your dirty work Rachel, not me. I haven't even decided if I can stomach even attending this ridiculous cocktail party, let alone run around looking for decorations to make Hummel's room anymore fag-tastic than it already is."

"Santana," Brittany murmured warningly. Rachel's briskness had fallen and she looked almost as scared as she had when Santana had gone all Lima Heights Adjacent in her face after Nationals.

Santana glared at her for one more beat and then spun on her heel, unlocking her car and sliding into her seat. Almost shaking with rage, she jammed the key and wrenched the car to life, backing out of the car park. Brittany was still standing with Rachel and they both were looking at Santana, shocked. Santana jabbed a button on her car door handle and wound down the front passenger window.

"Are you in or out Brittany?" She snapped. Brittany jumped and nodded hastily- which didn't even answer Santana's question- but she waited anyway, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel and her blood beating hard in her eardrums. Out of the corner of her eye, Santana saw Brittany bend down and pick up Santana's napkin, say something to Rachel and then she headed towards the car.

She slid into the seat next to Santana and sat quietly, her hands folded around the napkins as Santana revved them angrily out of the car park.

It wasn't until they pulled to a stop at some red lights that she stole a glance at Brittany.

"Sorry if I scared you back there Britt."

Brittany shrugged. "I just didn't like that you said that thing about Kurt. He's worked so hard to grow his horn and it's not nice to tease him about it."

"I didn't say anything about Kurt."

"Yahuh. You said his room was fag-tastic. Which is a mean word. And a bit silly seeing as your room just as _lez-tastic_."

Santana snorted. "Lez-tastic? What on earth makes my room look lez-tastic?"

"The fact that it's _your_ room. Duh," Brittany said. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look, all I'm trying to say is that, you are who you are and your room reflects that. Since you're a lesbian-"

"Britt-" Santana flinched.

"...your room is lez-tastic. And there isn't anything wrong with that Santana, just like there isn't anything wrong with Kurt's room."

"I know," Santana sighed. "I was just angry at Man-Hands for assuming… assuming_..._" Santana's voice was chased way by tears and she broke off, shaking her head.

"I know San," Britt said gently.

"I'm not ready to be okay with people just assuming…" She stuttered, trying to make sense of how she felt. She could feel tears of frustration burn the back of her eyes until she could barely see the road.

"Shh, it's okay. We don't have to make decorations together or anything. We don't even have to go to the party at all if you don't want to."

Silently, Santana reached across to Brittany's lap. Brittany freed her hands from the napkins and held one palm up. Gratefully, Santana knotted their fingers together and squeezed, hoping that the sheer pressure would let Brittany know all the things Santana couldn't say out loud.


	6. Feud

**Hey guys, update for you! Once again thanks for the interest and keep those reviews coming! **

** Hope everyone had a safe and happy christmas! **

**Ch 6: Feud**

"If I put tabasco sauce, vodka, gin and coke into the cocktail what should we call it?" Brittany was standing at Santana's dresser which was covered in potential ingredients as they tried to come up with a cocktail to take to Kurt's party.

Santana had only agreed to go on the condition that they sampled enough cocktails for her to get drunk before they showed up.

"Like ripping off a band-aid quickly?" Brittany had asked.

"Uh…" Santana shrugged, deciding to just go with it. "Sure."

There was practically nothing that could spoil Santana's mood at the present moment. She was lounging on her bed watching Brittany bend over the counter to construct her latest cocktail. Her short navy sequinned dress the slid up and down her thighs like water as she moved.

Every now and then a smile would tug the corners of Santana's mouth at the memory of the piece of paper that had been pinned to the Arts and Culture notice board that afternoon. It was the cast list for West Side Story bearing her name beside that of 'Anita'.

She'd never let on how thrilled she was, not even to Britt who was with her when she saw it posted. She'd just rolled her eyes and grinned as Britt jumped up and down, tugging the back of Santana's backpack.

But throughout that afternoon Santana felt a balloon of contentment swelling slowly inside her until even the cocktail party didn't sound like such a bad thing.

Another plus for Santana was that the cocktail party would be missing Rachel. She'd had been officially uninvited on Facebook because she'd knotted Kurt's g-string by deciding to run against him and Britt for Senior Class President.

Unlike Kurt, Britt had hardly been fazed by Rachel's decision. When Tina had told her during lunch she'd just shrugged and said breezily: "Oh, that's okay. No one will vote for her anyway because she's Jewish."

Santana had almost choked on her forkful of salad.

"Uhm, that is so, so rude Brittany," Tina had said in disbelief. "There isn't anything wrong with being Jewish!"

Brittany had paused, frowning down her nose in confusion.

"I thought Jewish was just a fancy word for 'annoying'."

"San?"

"Mmm?" Brittany was holding a glass out to her. It was filled with an ominous brown liquid and had whole strawberry and a pink toothpick umbrella floating near the rim. Santana took it and held it up to the light sceptically.

"What should we call it?" Brittany repeated. Santana held the glass up to her nose and sniffed. Her lip curled in disgust.

"Uh, how about Fires Of Mount Doom?"

Brittany's eyes widened. "That's _perfect!_ Are you going to taste it?"

Santana hesitated. They'd already sampled a fair few of Brittany's creations- vodka, milk and lemon rind had been particularly interesting. While the gin, grape juice and pear cider had been surprisingly tasty. Santana suspected it was the two glasses she'd had of that that left her where she was now- light-headed and flopped on the bed.

"If I try it I may not make it to Kurt's," she said, handing the glass back to Brittany who shrugged and took a sip from it instead. Santana watched as her cheeks pinked and her features twisted into one another at the taste.

"Ugh. Yuck!" She exclaimed, setting down the glass and shaking her head. Santana laughed and held out her arms, pouting.

"Poor Britt Britt, come here, I'll distract you from the aftertaste."

Brittany sank down on the bed beside her and Santana rolled on top of her, trailing her fingers down the material of Britt's dress which clung to her curves.

She kissed Brittany long and slow, until her lips were tingling. She reached down and raked her fingertips up one of Brittany's thighs, and felt Brittany's hips arch against her own. Santana shivered with pleasure and kissed Brittany deeper, wanting to be the only taste on her tongue, the only sensation across her skin.

/

They were an hour and a half late to Kurt's house.

As they approached the front door Santana felt like her feet were far too heavy for her legs. She had no idea how she was managing to walk in heels except for Brittany's presence which was a warm anchor at her side.

Kurt met them at the door, grinning his gummy dewy-eyed smile and gestured for them to twirl in their dresses.

"So, _so _chic," he said, fingering the hem of Santana's little black dress. "Come in, come in!"

They were taken downstairs to where Kurt's room filled the whole basement. The others were sitting around a coffee table full of nibbles- there were assortments of breads with different coloured oils to dip them in and chocolate dipped strawberries.

"Hey guys!" Tina said, waving. She held up her glass. Santana could see that her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes slightly unfocused. "Try Kurt's cocktail! Its…cherry liqueur and cream with…with …"

"...a dark chocolate garnish," Kurt finished for her, ushering Santana and Brittany to the empty three-seater nearby. He plied them with their own cherry liqueur cocktails and gestured behind him.

"If you want another please help yourself!"

Santana could see that, like her, Kurt had turned his dresser into a makeshift bar- but a far more upmarket one that Santana's had been. While she'd gathered an assortment of all the drinkable liquids in her house, Kurt had lined up glasses and pitchers in neat uniform rows. There was a silver ice bucket with tiny tongs hooked on its side and a platter of chopped up fruits and olives for people to put in their drinks. Blaine and Finn were there, mixing drinks together.

"Hey Finn, I was looking forward to your grilled cheese. What a let-down," she said sarcastically, gesturing to the food on the table.

Finn took the drink Blaine handed him and walked back to the couches. He flopped down on the other side of Brittany.

"Yeah, Kurt said he and I have something called 'creative differences'."

Brittany waved her hand and said knowingly, "Don't worry, my cat and I have them all the time. He wants to go bowling but I tell him, no you can't, you don't have thumbs. And I want to join the swim team but he always chews holes in my togs so I can't.

"Rrrright." Finn said, nodding. Puck snorted and walked to the table, picking up a fistful of bread and popping it into his mouth. He bounced onto the couch beside Quinn who wrinkled her nose and uncrossed her legs, shifting away from him.

Artie rolled up to the gap beside Santana's end of the couch and smiled at her.

"Hey Anita," he said.

She fought the grin, but it won. "Hey," she said, grudgingly letting it take over her face. She took a pull on the straw of her drink and raised her eyebrows in surprise. It was delicious.

Tina, Mike, Quinn, Artie, Blaine and Kurt had struck up a conversation about Mercedes. It seemed like the hundredth time they had gone over what had happened. Santana trained her hearing on Finn and Brittany's conversation. He was telling her a story about his cousins from Kansas and she had her head back, shaking with laughter.

Santana sat coiling tighter and tighter from annoyance while Brittany reached out and flattened the creases on his shirt collar.

"What do you think Santana?"

She started and turned her eyes up to the others who were looking at her expectantly. "Huh?"

"About Mercedes joining Shelby's new glee club." Quinn said.

"With that Sugar Motta chick," Puck wrinkled his nose.

Santana took another long pull on the straw of her drink, welcoming the warm haze it doused over her senses and shrugged.

"Means I'm going to get the black girl solos due to Mr Shue's latent racist tendencies so I'm not complaining."

"Rachel was saying it'll mean…"

"Uh, uh, uh." Kurt wagged a finger at Tina.

"Right. Sorry. No Rachel talk tonight." Tina said, holding up her hands apologetically.

Beside them, Brittany gave another peel of laughter. Santana snapped her head around, scowling.

"What's so…"

But she was interrupted by Blaine's bright grin as he stuck his head over the back of the couch.

"Hey Santana, wanna have a couple of goes at karaoke?"

Santana raised her eyebrows incredulously. Kurt's Hand-Bag had to be kidding himself if he thought that she'd ever want to subject herself to singing an Elton John medley with him.

The talk of karaoke had caught Britt's attention and she turned away from Finn, clapping her hands and wiggling in her seat.

"Oh do it San! It'll be so fetch!"

"Fetch?" Mike questioned.

"Yahuh. It's English. The Queen says it all the time." Tina, Quinn, Mike and Puck all exchanged frowns.

"Oh yes, yes, yes, yes!" Kurt said, clapping his hands. "Blaine-slash-Santana karaoke sounds like the perfect thing."

"Do you have the Beatles version?" Blaine asked as they rose from their seats.

"Duh," Kurt rolled his eyes. "That's like karaoke canon."

"Dooo it!" Britt said, nudging Santana off the couch. Pretending to scoff, Santana stood up.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse. You could be making me sing the soundtrack to Mama Mia or something appalling like that." Kurt's face lit up.

"Well I do have-"

"No. Hell. No. Don't even-"

"I..."

"No."

"Bu-"

"No." She held up a hand in his face until he rolled his eyes in mock annoyance and went to help Blaine set up the TV.

"Here we go," Finn said, smiling at Brittany as he placed another cocktail on the table in front of her. Santana looked down at the, frowning.

"You haven't even finished your first." She said.

Brittany shrugged. "He was going up there so…"

"Well he doesn't need to wait on you hand and foot."

Right on cue, Finn turned to them, holding out a platter of bread to Brittany. As Britt mulled over her choice, Santana's frown swooped lower and lower over her eyes.

"You're not her boyfriend Free Willy. Stop flopping around like you are," she snapped. Finn and Brittany looked at her. Across the table, Mike, Puck, Quinn and Tina were staring too.

"Chill out Santana," Finn shook his head. "This is my house too and I'm just trying to be-"

"Effing annoying and desperate? Well in that case, you are doing a really stellar job at it." Santana felt her anger clamp down in her chest. She knew that it was unjustified, but somehow that just made her angrier and before she could stop herself she was leaning aggressively into Finn's face.

"I know Berry let you out of your kennel for the night and you're excited. And I know it's the first time you've probably talked to a girl while not on your leash but for god sakes keep your hands to yourself. It's making me nauseous."

Finn looked at her, disgusted. "You know, just because you're jealous Santana doesn't mean you can take it out on everyone else."

"Jealous?" Santana screeched, throwing her head back in mock hilarity. "Finn, you flirt about as competently as a starving Walrus. Trust me, I'm not jealous. I pity Britt for having to suffer through it."

"He's not flirting Santana." Brittany's voice was low, attempting to be soothing. But Finn drowned her out.

"No, you're not jealous of that. You're jealous because if I wanted to, I _could_ flirt with Brittany, whereas you…"

"Okay! Okay!" Kurt came back to the couch, grinning manically, forcing their attention onto him. "Karaoke is _ready!_ If you'd all like to seat yourselves so you can see, Blaine and Santana will take the stage."

He handed her a sleek black microphone. She took it, her eyes still on Finn. Her heart was pounding and she wanted to smack the stupid look off his face.

As if he anticipated it, Kurt threaded his hand through her elbow and gently led her over to the space he and Blaine had cleared as a makeshift stage.

"I'm not singing yellow submarine," Santana warned Blaine as she joined him.

"Not what I was thinking at all. Heard of _Something_?"

"Oooh, good choice," Artie called from behind them. Kurt turned to the TV and scrolled through until he found the song.

"Ready?" He clicked play and the music swelled, the opening lines blinking across the screen.

"Ladies first," Blaine grinned at her. Santana flipped the switch on her microphone and took a breath. Usually Rachel Berry did this sort of thing and Santana sat at the back of the room, rolling her eyes and wishing she had pins to stab herself.

The music sweltered, the opening guitar riff lazy and twangy and familiar like all Beatles songs were. Santana dragged her voice huskily across the beat.

_Something in the way she moves,  
><em>_attracts me like no other lover.  
><em>_Something in the way she woos me.  
><em>_I don't wanna leave her now.  
><em>_You know I believe and how_

She only needed the first verse to recall the rest. It flowed out of her effortlessly, using the faint sound of John Lennon's voice- ghosting her own- to keep time. As she sang her eyes drifted across the room, hardly seeing anyone. This was how she got when she sang. She only saw what the music opened her eyes to.

But Brittany's face was there, and Brittany's eyes were looking straight at Santana. Blaine came in on the chorus, harmonising easily with her.

_You're asking me, will my love grow?  
><em>_I don't know. I don't know.  
><em>_You stick around now it may show.  
><em>_I don't know. I don't know._

Santana tried to close her eyes. She tried to take more notice of Blaine beside her. But back across the room they'd flicker- like moths- sweeping close and then away again before it meant too many things.

And then, gradually, because she was caught up in alcoholic confidence and jealousy was still threading through her nerves, her gaze became bolder until she was drinking in Brittany's face, mapping all her features like new countries.

And suddenly the words to the song were all Brittany's. They'd been written for her, Santana was sure.

_Something in the way she knows  
><em>_and all I have to do is think of her.  
><em>_Something in the things she shows me.  
><em>_I don't wanna leave her now. You know I believe in how._

The music drifted to a close, with Blaine and Santana harmonising the last note, stretching it out further than the original did. And when the music was gone Santana dropped her eyes from Brittany's as though the beat had been the only thing that bound them.

/

"I can't get my dress…Oh, crap." There was a muffled thud in the darkness at the end of Santana's bed.

"You right?" Santana whispered to Brittany. She lay on her bed, dress already discarded. Her limbs were heavy and floppy and she could hear every one of her breaths like they were magnified in her eardrums. Her heart beat was sore in her chest. She was _drunk_. So drunk that her nerves didn't know what they were supposed to feel and what they weren't. They'd turned inwards so that she could feel so acutely the workings of her own body but had no idea what the bed underneath her felt like.

The mattress rocked beneath her as Brittany crawled up to her side of the bed. Santana attempted to look at her and her head flopped sideways awkwardly. In the dark beside her, Brittany giggled.

"You're drunk." Santana muttered.

"Mmm." The mattress shifted again and suddenly, the dim shadow of Brittany's face was above her and her alcohol breath scattered all over Santana's.

"I enjoyed tonight." Her hands were warm on Santana's shoulders, her stomach, her arms. She felt her insides pull and she reached for Brittany's face, threading her fingers through her hair, pulling her lips down to Santana's lips.

It was like it used to be. When they'd been younger. Fumbling for one another in the dark- self-conscious and urgent. The first time Santana had touched Brittany between her legs they'd been in Santana's bed, drunk like they were now- home from their first big party at 14.

Santana hadn't even known if Brittany wanted her to- the words had never passed between them. They'd kissed before that night. In front of boys. But they'd never kissed like this- Urgent and hot. Their bodies had clashed together as they tried to get close enough. They were clumsy and they were drunk but when Santana began exploring the wet heat beneath Brittany's underwear with her fingers it was like everything came into sharper focus. Beside her, Brittany had breathed like she was running a race and Santana slipped her fingers up inside her, pulling them in and out until Brittany moaned into a pillow and her arms became vice-like around Santana's shoulders. Further down, her insides became a vice on Santana's surging fingers.

"I'm going to…" The present Brittany's jagged whisper sounded somewhere near Santana's ear. She was burning everywhere, not able to hold Brittany close enough, or be deep enough inside her.

"Oh, god."

Just like that first time, Brittany's limbs locked against Santana and her insides tugged at Santana's fingers. Her ragged breath hitched and then a cry ripped through the air between their faces.

When Santana felt Brittany come it took her breath away, just like the first time.

They lay panting, naked and pressed hard up against one another, just like the first time.

And then, Brittany leaned back, and Santana met the liquid shine in the dimness that she knew were Brittany's eyes.

"I love you." Brittany's voice slipped softly between them in the dark, like it had the first time.

Back then, Santana knew that Britt had said it just to fill the void left by what had happened. It was Brittany's way of getting them back to the _before_- when they were just friends, collapsed drunk on a bed. It was her way of saying they were still the same. That it didn't matter.

Santana had turned away that first time and mumbled something about sleep.

Now, her body curved closer to Brittany of its own accord, and even though she buried her head into the warmth of Brittany's neck, her reply wasn't muffled.

"Love you too, Britt."


	7. Trouble

**Note: Update again. Trying to unravel the decision process that leads up to Santana asking Britt whether they are dating in ep 4. Hope you guys like it. **

**Next chapter will be Brittana as girlfriends! I'm excited to write that. **

**Anyway, any comments are appreciated and thanks so much for all your continued interest. Means a lot! **

**Ch 7: Trouble**

Santana was lying on her bed, her eyes crossed at the piece of hair she was holding up to her face, examining for split ends. The phone she held crooked to her ear by her shoulder was buzzing with Brittany's voice.

"So I looked into the whole getting a wax statue of myself to put beside the trophy cabinet for when I win Senior Class President. But it turns out Madame Tussauds doesn't deliver so I guess I'll look into plan B."

"Your likeness made out of popsicle sticks?"

"Yahuh."

Santana found a split end and threaded it away from the other strands for a better look. "Have you found someone who does that yet?"

"Nope. But I'm just gunna ask Rory coz he's magical and he'll know about that sort of stuff."

"Ugh," Santana tossed her hair aside and rolled over on her bed. "You know, I'm getting sick of hearing about that Rory kid."

"He's not a kid…"

"Oh whatever. He looks enough like a baby goat to be one so I'll stick with it."

"He's promised to give me three wishes if I give him my pot of gold. He's magic San. Don't be a such a mean muggle. "

Santana went cold. "What the hell is your pot of gold?" She snapped, her voice thinly stretched in suspicion.

"Hold on…" There was a jumble of sound through the phone's ear piece and then Brittany's voice sounded, dimmer and further away than it had been before.

"No, I'll come down now. Thanks Rory!" Santana froze, listening hard. But then Brittany's voice sounded again back closer to the phone.

"Sorry San, dinner time."

"What's the pot of go-"

"I got to go! It's lasagne! I'll text you later."

"Wai-" The line dropped in her ear and she cursed, flopping the phone on the other side of her bed and sitting up. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the back of her door and winced. Her hair was messed like a storm and her eyes looked black and sharp.

She sighed and dropped back on her bed, fishing her iPod from beneath her pillow. It had been paused on her West Side Story playlist which she used to practice her parts but that was the last thing she felt like doing.

She swung her finger across the wheel, looking for an artist to suit her mood. The wheel clicked over _My Chemical Romance_ and she stopped, remembering with a faint smirk all her fourteen year old angst. She clicked 'All Songs' and then 'Shuffle'. Then she lay back and closed her eyes as an electric guitar began the violent riff of 'Thank You for the Venom'.

She past her thoughts over the last few weeks and the steadily growing complication between her and Brittany. Santana couldn't figure out how they'd slipped into this awkward limbo where they both knew how the other felt and were both single yet all that Santana seemed to feel was jealousy and anger. There was no relief from it. Not even when Brittany was alone with her, naked under her hands. No matter how hard Santana tried, those feelings never truly left her and it was exhausting.

Since they'd been 14 they'd had a _thing._ Whatever that even meant. Making out at parties, tasting the alcohol on one another's tongues. And gradually the late night drunken escapades after parties had become routine. It had all been purposefully casual on Santana's part. And she'd always been able to deal with her jealousy about Brittany's relationships with other people by sabotaging them. But she'd never slipped up like she had at the cocktail party. She'd never verbally attacked someone for _talking _to Britt. And _Finn_ of all people- who was so obsessed with his woodland creature he wouldn't even stay with _Quinn _let alone flirt with anyone else.

Santana had always encouraged Brittany to keep anything she had with boys casual. At Santana's feet, Brittany had learnt that fidelity in relationships was about as important as last week's disposable razor. And while that had been convenient for Santana when Brittany was dating Professor X, it now made Santana's insides curl.

Santana squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to imagine Brittany sitting at her dinner table, serving Rory potatoes and smiling at him. She had a theory about what Brittany's pot of gold contained and the thought of Rory getting anywhere near it made her want to vomit.

She knew it was all her own fault for manipulating Brittany. Frustration and annoyance brought tears to her eyes but she fought them, screwing her eyes shut even harder.

Brittany wasn't even hers properly. And even if she were, Santana herself had unintentionally made sure that their relationship wouldn't mean a single thing.

/

The next day Santana left her phone turned off and under her pillow. She hadn't gotten a text from Brittany like she'd been promised and to stop it eating away at her she'd removed the possibility of being disappointed. But still, she spent the whole ride to school regretting her missing phone and searching the road up ahead of her for one of Brittany's parent's cars dropping her off. When Santana arrived in the parking lot of McKinley she was still searching and didn't even notice that who she'd parked next to until Quinn tapped on her passenger window with a knuckle. Santana gestured for her to open the door and Quinn slid in.

"Hey, you're early to school," she said.

"So are you."

"Yeah I have an essay to print off for English," Quinn held up a usb.

"Ahh," Santana nodded. She wondered if it was only her that felt the weight of what had happened at Kurt's party that last Friday night. She shot a glance at Quinn to see if she was gearing to bring it up but Quinn's eyes were trained out Santana's windscreen. Santana followed her line of sight to see Shelby walking across the lot, loaded with a box of papers that were flapping slightly in the breeze.

"You know," Quinn's eyes moved with Shelby, "I thought what I did for Beth was exactly right." She left the sentence hanging, and when Shelby disappeared into the front double doors of the school Quinn's eyes stayed trained on them.

"And now…" Santana prompted, feeling both relieved they weren't talking about her outburst and nervous about wading into the adopted- baby waters with Quinn.

Slowly, carefully, Quinn took her eyes from the door and met Santana's.

"What kind of person brings their child back to the same town as the mother that gave them away?" Quinn whispered. "The mother that isn't even out of high school…isn't over what happened?"

Santana stared at Quinn, not knowing what the best thing to say was. But before she could figure it out, Quinn carried on.

"If it wasn't so emotionally sadistic I could see it being an honest mistake. But…" She shook her head and looked away.

"Well, I guess we all now know who Berry got her tact from don't we?"

Quinn half smiled. "Guess we do."

"It sucks." Santana said lamely, referring to everything. "How are decisions ever meant to be made when most of them just come back around and start a new singing group at your high school?"

This time Quinn laughed faintly. "My thoughts exactly. I don't think a decision is ever really made. I mean, things crop up to change how you feel later and suddenly the choices you made back then aren't the ones you'd make now. It's okay to regret things I think."

"But you have to go out there and do something about it. Change it so that you get what you want. Before someone else does." Santana could read the subtitles below her own words- the ones that were all about her and Brittany.

Quinn was looking at her with a strange expression and Santana tensed, wondering if she'd said too much. But then Quinn's eyes unfocused and she wasn't seeing Santana anymore.

"You think I could change things back? Take it all back?"

With a start Santana realised what Quinn was thinking and she began back-peddling. "Uh. Well, I just meant that, you know, you should try and distract yourself from it or like get her fired or something. But you couldn't like, take the baby back if that's what you mean. They have contracts so you can't."

Quinn was still far away. "But how can paper mean more than blood?" She asked softly. She blinked and then slowly closed her eyes so that her ridiculously long eye lashes were black fans across her cheeks. When she opened them, her grin was disconcerting.

"She'll never be what I can be to Beth. She'll never fit as well as I'd fit for her. I'd be doing the right thing. Yes," Quinn nodded to herself. Feeling less and less a part of the conversation, Santana shifted disconcertedly in her seat.

"You can't judge me Santana." Quinn had caught her discomfort and her voice was almost pleading. "What would you do if you knew a part of you was being held by someone else and dangled in your face? Wouldn't you try to get it back?"

"I-I guess. H-hey, where are you going?" Quinn had opened the door and jumped out of the car, vaulting equally as quickly into her own.

"Getting her back!" She called as she slammed the door and ignited the engine. Santana sat, stunned, watching Quinn back her car out of the car park and drive out onto the main road.

A part of her felt horrified. A part of her felt inspired.

/

It seemed to Santana as though her crazy baby conversation with Quinn had set the tone for her day. Everything kept twisting her into knots, turning her mind one way and then another. At their lunchtime Cheerios practice Sue had called Santana over and told her that she'd personally helped cut the funding for the school musical and was going to use the money to breed her own bloodline of Will Shuester hating Raccoons who would be trained like sniffer dogs to respond violently to the smell of his hair gel. Santana had still been reeling from that news, too scared to ask anyone if it was true in case they found out she actually gave a shit about it, when Mercedes approached her at her locker.

Being asked to join Shelby's all-girl group dulled the pain of Sue's words and Santana couldn't help fantasising about the solos she was pretty much guaranteed. Mercedes could sing, yes, but Santana knew she was more versatile. And what if they did a dance number? Who would be leading then? What if Brittany joined? Santana could hardly keep her grin contained as she imagined her and Brittany doing a duet at sectionals.

During that day Santana's mind ticked over all the possibilities she'd been given- so much that she didn't even take the bait when Berry put up her hand in English and requested that she perform a dramatic rendition of the passage of King Lear that they were studying. She'd barely even managed a laugh when she walked past Miss Pillsbury's office and caught her cleaning her toothbrush with another toothbrush.

Brittany had been practically a no-show in Santana's day so far. She'd caught sight of her several times- disappearing around the corners of corridors with her arms threaded through Rory's, showing him around on his first day. Seeing that little shit playing on Brittany's innocence by wearing all green and catching snippets of him wanking on about his little bearded leprechaun family made Santana clench her fists so hard that her palms were covered in half-moon bruises from her fingernails.

She and Britt didn't even sit together at that afternoon's glee club meeting. Santana, having had to dredge up every ounce of motivation to get herself there, had meandered in later than the rest and taken the only free seat near Quinn who as far as Santana could tell didn't look like she'd napped any babies as of yet. Though Santana knew from experience that Quinn slipped secrets into the corners of her Grace Kelly smile as easily as Santana slipped insults into her conversations with Finn.

When Mr Schue dismissed them Santana brushed off Finn's curiously accurate dig at her loyality to the New Directions and wound her way through the others to catch Brittany who had been first out the door.

"Britt Britt," Santana's mouth fumbled over the words. Her tone clogged from all the mental rehearsal she'd done during the day.

"Hey Santana" Brittany smiled shyly. That smile. It was a bowling ball to Santana's impending words, scattering them in a perfect strike. She scrambled for more time to sort them out again.

"I-I c-can give you a lift home if you want?"

"Oh, it's okay. Dad's picking Rory and I up. It's weird I keep forgetting that other people can see him."

"Right." Santana felt her cheeks heat in annoyance and she turned abruptly on her heel, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Brittany before she projectile word-vomited the fact that leprechauns didn't exist, would never exist and even if they did, would never stay at her house on a student exchange.

With surprising strength, Brittany grasped her arm, pulling her back mid-step.

"Hey." Brittany was frowning, her bottom lip pouted in confusion. Santana rolled her eyes to the ceiling, trying to stop tears that had been swelling all day inside her. She felt over whelmed and let down and a jumble of conflicted emotions. Brittany standing in front of her unleashed a violent gravity on all of these things, pulling them down around Santana.

"What's wrong? Where have you been all day?"

Santana shook her head in place of words. Brittany gently pulled her around the side of some lockers so that they weren't in clear view of people walking past. "You're going to cry aren't you?"

Santana shook her head again, sniffing back the tears with all her might.

"Well, okay. But what's wrong?"

"I-I'm fine. Hay fever I think."

"Oh." Brittany looked concerned. "Is your forehead hot? Do you have the shakes?" She reached for Santana's forehead but Santana gently brushed her hand away.

"Hay fever is the one that isn't actually a fever, remember?" She reminded Brittany. "Like Bieber fever."

"No, that is _definitely_ a fever," Brittany corrected her, fanning her face and blowing the hair off her forehead as though she'd just been hit by a bout.

Santana smiled, wanting to pull Brittany against her and just hug her. But Brittany was still talking.

"Do you like my idea for Mr Schue's add space selling campaign? I'm going to go to ask the guys that drive real slow past me when I walk home if they want to advertise for a personal shopper. Coz they are always asking me-"How much?"- and it's like," Brittany shrugged, "how am I supposed to know? I haven't been to collage and done a shopping degree. I think we could get heaps of money because there are _so_ many guys who are looking for one!"

Santana felt the stress of the day shift. And the words she'd been going over in her mind all day were suddenly all lined up and waiting. She took a step closer to Britt and grinned, tweaking the end of her nose.

"I think that's the best idea I've ever heard for selling add space Britt. I'll come with you when you ask them though, alright? I'll borrow my Abuelo's gang-grade Taser."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing." Santana's voice softened itself. "Hey, what are you doing tonight?"

Brittany shrugged. "Just homework probably."

"And Breadstix with me?" Brittany raised her eyebrows in surprise and grinned.

"That sounds perfect."

"Good because I have some stuff to talk to you about." Santana kept her voice even, her smile glossy. The corridor around them was filling with people as the few groups that used the classes after school broke up their meetings. She and Britt were the last glee clubbers remaining. From amongst the crowd, Santana could see a green figure making his way over to them.

"Brittany, you ready to go?" He called down the hall towards them in his ridiculous accent. Santana stepped away from Brittany, glaring at his bright eyed grin coming towards her.

"Yep okay!" Brittany bounced over to him, shooting Santana a glance over her shoulder. "See you tonight San!"

"I'll-I'll pick you up at eight!" Santana called after them. Brittany didn't turn back around, she had her arm threaded through Rory's and was talking animatedly as they walked to the front doors. Santana felt her words fall somewhere in the crowd and with them went all her resurged confidence. She leant against the wall of the corridor, listening to the odd clang of a locker door and the scuffing of feet, some faint laughter until the corridor was wide, silent and empty. Then she walked to the parking lot and drove home, no longer trying to fight all the tears of confusion that had been building up that day. They streamed down her face and she cried noisily, feeling messy and stupid and pathetic but _real_. This was the first time she'd allowed herself to really feel everything that was happening. She felt silly, driving so calmly while the insides of her car rang with her sobs, but they came out like a dam had been broken. Santana cried for her and Britt, she cried for all the times she'd told Britt that relationships meant nothing, she cried for the cancelled musical and the part she was secretly so attached to. She cried for her stupid, messed up head that seemed preprogramed to sabotage herself by being mean and afraid and bitter.

She'd never been more glad to see her empty garage and she vaulted up the stairs to her room, shutting the door, twisting the lock and leaning against it. She felt a hollow coolness pass over her as her tears halted, leaving the end of her nose and her eyes burning.

Sniffing, Santana wiped her nose with the heel of her palm and looked around at the chaos of her room. She'd been so busy lately that she hadn't had time to properly look around and see how disordered it had become. Her bed was messed from two weeks of sleep without being made, her dresser was still cramped with bottles from the cocktail night. Her desk was covered in papers and books and clothes and pom-poms and dirty plates. Santana picked her way across the clothing scattered floor and heaved open her dark curtains, coaxing the dim evening sun in through the window. It was the first time they'd been opened in a while and Santana felt suddenly as though she'd been disconnected from the little things that usually made up her life. She'd barely talked to her parents in the last week; she'd barely dented the growing pile of homework in her bag, hell, the scene outside her bedroom window even looked unfamiliar.

Flopping on her unmade bed wasn't as satisfying as it would have been if it had been fresh and well made, but the release of all her emotion had exhausted Santana. She didn't even know how she was going to make it through tonight with Brittany without breaking down out of sheer exhaustion. Her eyes drifted closed and she snaked an arm under her pillow to prop her head up more comfortably.

That was when her arm bumped against something solid underneath her pillow and Santana's hand closed around her phone. She pulled it out and held down the on button, intending to set her alarm so she'd have time for an emotionally fortifying nap but as the welcome screen lit up Santana's face, her phone began to buzz in her palm with incoming messages. Impatiently, Santana clicked into her inbox and waited for the messages to load. Brittany's name filled the screen, over and over again beside small blue envelopes.

Santana felt her stomach knot and she scrolled down to the earliest message dated 7.30 a.m:

_Helloooo. Sorry I didn't text you last night! Hope your sleep was good and you didn't wake up the wrong way around in the bed like I did. _

9.47 a.m: _Are you at school yet? I have to show Rory round but have you seen Rachel's mustard dress? Come to my locker and laugh at her with me! _

11.15 a.m:_ She has a matching hat. I just saw it in her bag. _

12.51 p.m: _Ah! Our campaign posters look über awesomely unicorn around school don't they?_

1.17 p.m: _Britt Britt is sad that she's got no texts from you :( _

4.32 p.m: _Are you coming to glee club? Should I save you a seat?_

And then the last one, time stamped 5.25 p.m: _So excited for tonight. Sorry I had to rush off. Eight is perfect and make sure you bring that smile with you that I like so much. xxx_

Santana was grinning at her phone like an idiot. She took a deep breath, her lungs filling with relief and rolled off her bed, feeling the tired ache around her eyes weaken in the rush of anticipation for seeing Brittany. The Brittany that _did _care about her. Santana had been stupid to doubt it. And as usual, it was her own fault for leaving her phone at home.

She grabbed the nearest items of clothing off her floor and began to bundle them all up, sorting the dirty from the discarded. She filled her laundry basket and put it and the stack of dirty dishes beside her door. She collected rubbish and empty alcohol bottles together in a bag and hauled it all downstairs, returning with a damp cloth and the vacuum cleaner.

She cleaned her room until it looked like it was on show. Every pillow was smooth and straight on her bed, her home work was neatly stacked on her desk, arranged by subject, and her dresser was bare save for her clasped jewellery box and zipped shut make up bag. Santana sat back down on her bed, perspiring slightly but feeling more unwound and unmuddled than she had in weeks.

The face on her beside clock- which she'd recovered from behind her bedside table- read 7.25 p.m. All Santana had to contend with now was her nerves. Her nerves and the questions and confessions for Brittany that had been fermenting all day in the back of her throat.


	8. Three Wishes

**Update before I go away for New Years. Woo the comments have been so lovely! Please, please keep them coming coz they make my day! **

**Thought I'd include a bit of Puck/Santana in here because I actually ship their friendship big time! Also I had so much fun with Sugar- let me know if you think I did okay with her. It's hard balancing her and Britt's craziness in the same scene! **

**Hope you guys like it! Will be back with Ch 8 dealing with Ep 5- The First Time- in the new year. **

**Ch 8: Three Wishes **

"Come here. No, closer….Closer….closer…"

"I can't!" Brittany exclaimed. Her face was pushed so hard up against Santana's that her features were a blur and their noses were squashed together.

"But it's not close enough!"

Santana tugged at her until Brittany sighed and wiggled her arms between Santana's mattress and her back, rolling completely on top of her. Santana took Britt's weight, not minding the pressure on her lungs.

"I approve of this new clean room," Brittany lifted her head to look around.

"Yep, well it was time I sorted my shit out." Santana leaned her chin against Britt's shoulder.

They'd gotten home from Breadstix an hour ago but they'd only just escaped a conversation with Santana's parents the intricacies of the modern financial crisis in America- which amazingly, Britt had initiated.

"Where the hell did you learn all of that stuff?" Santana asked as they climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

Brittany had shrugged. "My uncles an Economics professor. He lets me read his academic journals when he visits."

Britt pressed her face back against Santana's. "Well your shit looks very sorted to me!" Santana drifted her hands up Brittany's back, lingering over the sides of her ribs, debating whether to tickle her.

"Tonight's dinner helped sort a lot of stuff too," she admitted, deciding against the tickling and curving her hands down Brittany's lower back instead.

Brittany shifted her hips at the touch. "Mmm? Like what?"

"Like, um, _us_…." Santana tried to look at Brittany's eyes, but their faces were too close to discern any clear facial expression. "Right?"

"Hmmm, like how we're dating?"

"Yes," she nodded in approval. "We're...dating. You get what that means right?"

"Well…"

"Hold on, get off." Santana pushed Brittany sideways so that they were both on the bed facing one another. Santana pulled back so she could read Brittany's face, not wanting to miss a single syllable of subtext in her expression. "That's better. So... do you?"

Brittany took a breath. "Yes," she exhaled, nodding once. Her face was pinched in concentration and Santana wanted to kiss her for taking it so seriously.

"What does it mean to you?"

Brittany paused, her eyes unfocused, thinking. Santana watched her face, almost wanting to cover her mouth so that she wouldn't have to hear the answer.

Brittany licked her lips and then said, "it means that neither of us are single?"

Santana, her heart humming, nodded, still not daring to look away from Brittany's face.

"Aaannd…." Brittany's eyes shot sideways, gathering her other meanings. "It means that we give each other stuff on valentines day."

Santana grinned. "That's ages away!"

"So?" Brittany was more confident now. "And it means that we can hold hands under napkins and I can change your name in my phone to _My Lover_ with one of those myspace hearts." She drew one in the air between their faces. Santana burst out laughing.

"_My Lover_?" She spluttered.

Brittany frowned. "Don't laugh!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Santana pressed her lips together and held up her hand apologetically, but the laughter burst in a snort from her nose. Brittany pouted, watching Santana roll over on the bed, clutching her stomach. "Okay, fine. Is 'My Girlfriend' okay? Or is that somehow hilarious too?"

Santana stopped laughing abruptly at these words. She stilled and turned back to Brittany.

"That could work," she managed hoarsely.

Brittany was still thinking, chewing gently on her tongue. "It also means…" she said finally, reaching out and tracing a finger down Santana's nose, "that neither of us can do stuff with anyone else."

These words surprised Santana more than Britt's economic expertise ever could.

"Really?" She asked, before she could stop herself.

Brittany frowned again, her cheeks flushing pink. "Do you want to do stuff with other people?"

"No! No, no. No." Santana shook her head emphatically.

Brittany's smile was slow and drowsy with contentment. It was infectious and they lay there, grinning like idiots into one another's faces.

"I'm glad you get it," Santana said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off Brittany's face.

"Of course I get it. I know now that cheating is cheating no matter whether you have a pipe or a hose."

Santana laughed. "I'm glad. I was scared I'd confused you."

"You do confuse me. But I have the lyrics to Songbird bookmarked on my laptop for those times."

That was too much. Santana leant over and pressed her lips against Brittany's.

"I'm sorry," She muttered as she pulled back. Brittany hooked her hands around the back of Santana's head, not letting her move too far away.

"It's okay. Hey, I just thought of another thing that us dating means."

"Mmm?"

"It means," Brittany guided Santana's face closer until their lips were brushing against one another. "That I'm allowed to kiss you first."

/

The next afternoon Santana walked through the hallway of McKinley with a renewed sense of purpose. She felt her Queen Bitch self resurging stronger with each step she took. Since the Muckraker article she'd curbed her habit of berating random students in these halls just in case they brought it up. But now Santana felt like all the mud-flinging and gossip in the world couldn't even dirty the sole of her shoe, let alone stop her from doing what she did best.

She _had_ Brittany. She held that knowledge on the underside of her tongue as she snapped insults at a couple of freshmen and ran a hand along the notice board to rip a campaign poster of Kurt's down.

Everything seemed to be falling into place. Sure, Santana was still buried way back in the closet where people usually hid their fetish porn and illegal exotic pets, but all the other things she'd been worried about had righted themselves once she and Britt had made things official. The musical was back on and Santana had put Berry and Bow-Tie thoroughly in their places at glee club that afternoon, no longer giving a shit about Butt-Chin's reaction.

As long as Britt went with her, she would gladly join the all girl glee club with Mercedes. And with the help of her Queen Bitch frame of mind, Santana had come up with a plan to make it happen.

On the way to her destination Santana passed Berry standing beside her locker with Tina and Artie. On impulse, she veered towards them.

"Aw, how sweet. Glee club hang times." She twinkled her fingers in jazz hands.

"Have you quit the New Directions?" Rachel asked, turning intensely to face her. Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to stay and listen to you and Blaine MMM'bop your way to last place at sectionals? The judges are conservative Berry, they won't like to see cross species duets."

"You are just so unbelievably rude. Every time," Tina said in disbelief, shaking her head.

"Sorry, what?" Santana cocked her ear closer to Tina. "I don't speak Awkward-Asian-Goth."

"I think this is going a bit far," Artie wheeled himself in between Tina and Santana. Santana opened her mouth to retort but out of the corner of her eye she saw what she'd been looking for. A figure dressed all in green had approached a locker down the hall and was twisting the combination of his lock. Santana flipped her pony tail straight and smirked around at Rachel, Tina and Artie.

"Wish I could stay and continue this delightful conversation but I've got dreams to crush that are shockingly more pathetic than yours." She turned on her heel and headed for Rory, her pre-soul destroying smirk playing on her face.

She'd gotten the courage to ask Brittany on their way to school that morning what she'd meant by her pot of gold. Brittany had been jamming in the passenger seat to Bruno Mars when it suddenly occurred to Santana that she'd never found out what it was. She reached over and turned the music down so that Brittany's voice sounded by itself for a few beats before she stopped singing and pouted at Santana.

"Hey, I was grooving to that," she pointed out.

"Yeah I know but, Britt, what's your pot of gold?"

"Huh?"

"You know. Your pot of gold- the thing your leprechaun is going to get when he grants you your three wishes. Coz you know," Santana took her eyes off the road to glance quickly at Brittany. "If it is what I think it is then you...you can't give it to him if we're dating."

"Uh, why not?" Brittany's voice sounded disgruntled.

Santana glanced at her again, frowning. "Um. _Because,_ that would be cheating," she snapped.

"No it wouldn't."

Santana sighed, raking a hand through her hair in frustration. She knew that this would come to bite her in the ass, she knew boundaries would always be difficult to define with Brittany after all Santana had taught her. She tried to keep patience in her voice. "Britt, anyone other than me having access to your _pot of gold_," She gestured vaguely in the direction of Brittany's lap, "is what society considers the standard definition of cheating."

Brittany looked down at her lap, where Santana had gestured, frowning. "I don't have it with me at the moment. I keep it on the top shelf of may wardrobe so that Lord Tubbington can't get to it."

"Oh," Santana managed, a flash flood of relief running through her. "So it's not ...I thought it was your…you know…" She gestured again at Brittany's lap.

"My…" Brittany looked down again, her lower lip stuck out in confusion. It took a beat and then her face cleared with understanding.

"Ohahaha," She laughed breathily. Santana glanced over at her and saw a mischievous smile playing across her lips. She reached over and took one of Santana's hands off the steering wheel and brought it across so that it rested on her thigh underneath the flaps of her Cheerios skirt.

Santana raised her eyebrows at the road, her breath catching in her throat.

"You meant this…" Britt guided her hand further up her leg until Santana could feel the heat of her coming from underneath her spankies.

"You're silly, San," Brittany breathed. "_This_ isn't my pot of gold. My pot of gold is a flowerpot filled with chocolate coins that I got from my Nana for Easter. Silly," she said again softly.

"I feel much better knowing that," Santana said, stiffening as she stretched her fingers out and felt the warm, damp material of Britt's spankies. Brittany's grip tightened around Santana's wrist and it became harder and harder to concentrate on driving as Brittany's jagged breathing filled the car's interior.

Santana arrived at Rory's locker and stood on the other side of the open door, waiting for him to close it. She knew she had all the power now. She knew about his pathetic attempts to get into Brittany, and she knew that he was sadly mistaken. She couldn't wait to see his face when he completed his three wishes and was given a flowerpot full of chocolate.

She certainly wasn't going to spoil his surprise, no, that would be too easy. She was going to make him pay for messing with Brittany's head. She was going to make him pay for thinking Britt would look twice at him while she was Santana's. She was going to beat him at his own game, and get some of her own wishes granted in the process. Santana was going to make him wish he'd never slimed his way out of that god-damn coo-coo clock.

/

"This is going to be so, _so _great." Mercedes said in between bites of the dip lathered chip she had balanced between her fingers. She, Brittany, and Santana were sitting on Brittany's bed for the first official out of school get together of the _Troubletones_. Santana even liked the way that the name sounded in her mouth, far better than _New Directions _which was like the name of some washed up 90's boy band with blond tips and huge Adam's apples. A.K.A- Mr Schue's wet dream.

The weird girl who had started the group, Sugar, was walking slowly around Brittany's room, her nose in the air, inspecting the pictures on Britt's walls. She stood on her tip toes, leaning towards the prom photo of Brittany and Artie.

"This boy," She tapped the photo and then turned her eyes to Brittany. "Is this retarded guy your boyfriend?"

She reminded Santana of those Siamese-cats with their long faces and slightly dull, crossed eyes. Santana could almost picture Sugar singing that song from Lady and the Tramp that those creepy cats sung. It had freaked her out when she was little and the thought of it now, with Sugar's eyes boring into Brittany's, made Santana shift uncomfortably.

"No he's not my boyfriend anymore. He used to be though, last year."

"But you broke up because you're lesbian right?" Santana froze, her face on fire. Brittany was sitting slightly in front of her on the bed so Santana couldn't see her reaction, but she noticed the tips of her ears turn pink.

"I broke up with him because he called me stupid," Brittany dead panned. Sugar tilted her head to the side. "That's not what Mercedes told me. Huh." She spun back around to face the wall. Brittany and Santana both turned to stare at Mercedes who looked like she'd just been slapped, her mouth still full of chip and dip.

"I-I-" She hurried to swallow. "I just said…"

"It doesn't matter anyway," Sugar interrupted, sauntering over and perching on the end of Brittany's bed. "So long as you don't try to feel me up or anything. I know, I know," she held up a hand when Brittany made a noise of protest. "I'm _such _a hot bitch that it's going to be hard."

"Sugar," Mercedes placed a hand on her arm, widening her eyes and shaking her head. Santana was frozen, still struggling silently to recover from what had just happened. Brittany stuck her finger in the dip bowl and licked the glob off the end of her finger.

"Asperger's." Sugar said, shrugging apologetically at them.

"Well guys," Mercedes clapped her hands, with manic air of a person trying desperately to remove any trace of the previous conversation. "We still haven't decided what song is going to be our first ever performance. So we narrowed it down to…"

"Candy Man," Santana recalled.

"and Roxanne," Brittany added.

"And Obsessed by Mariah Carey," Sugar finished. "With yours truly on lead vocals." She giggled happily around at them.

"I like that idea," Brittany nodded, going in for the dip again with her finger.

"No-no, honey. No," Santana shook her head. "I'm for Candy Man. Think of the awesome 40's costumes we could get."

Mercedes cocked her head, chewing thoughtfully. "It's definitely sexy," She mused.

"Well it ought to be seeing as all the sexy left the New Directions with Britt and I," Santana added.

"We could totally show them what they're missing with that song," Mercedes nodded. Brittany bounced off her bed and approached the speakers on her desk. She turned on Santana's iPod which was sitting in the dock and scrolled through until she found what she wanted and hit the middle button. The opening bars of Candy Man filled the room and Britt spun around, already swaying to the beat. She kicked her feet up to the rhythm and bounced towards the bed, a wide performers grin on her face. Mercedes picked up the opening run and began singing the first verse as Brittany swayed towards them, reaching a hand out for Sugar to join her. Santana's face split into a grin as Brittany winked at her and twirled so that her Cheerio's skirt flapped up to her waist, twirling Sugars hand in her own so she moved along with her. Santana began to sing along with Mercedes, marvelling as always at the compatibility in their voices.

When the song ended Sugar and Brittany bounced breathlessly back onto Brittany's bed. Brittany tilted her head around to look at Santana and raised her eye brows.

"You like the dance?" Her voice was coy. Santana felt her face heating again and she nodded.

"That was dope ya'll," Mercedes said, loading another chip with dip.

"Totes," Sugar grinned around at them, her crossed eyes bright with excitement.

"I think we have our song," Santana nodded, reaching out absentmindedly to straighten Brittany's pony tail.

/

_Im comng ovr. _

Santana blinked repeatedly into the bright light of her phone screen to clear the haze from her eyes. Giving up, she turned her head to look at her glowing bedside clock whose light was less harsh. It read 12.41 a.m. She rolled her eyes and hit the call button on her phone, stretching as she waited for it to connect.

He picked up on the second ring.

"What the hell Puck? I was sleeping."

"Well I'm already on my way to yours so get up." Santana could hear the rumble of his pick up's motor in the back ground. She propped herself up on one elbow.

"Why the hell are you coming over? Believe me when I say I am _not _putting out."

Puck snorted down the phone. "Believe me, _that _I know. I'm nearly there. I'll just come up."

"What th-" Santana frowned at her phone as Puck disconnected. With a frustrated sigh she shuffled off her bed, her limbs lethargic with sleep. She fumbled on some sweats and flicked on her bedside lamp. She'd gone to bed with her hair wet from her shower and now it fluffed up around her face like a dark cloud. She pulled it back into a messy bun and sat back on her bed, still blinking to scatter the heavy sleepy feeling in her eyes. She heard a distant rumble and chink as someone cut an engine at the end of her drive.

A few minutes later Puck was edging through her door and padding over to flop on her bed. She turned to glare at him.

"I'm not impressed."

He shrugged and fitted his hands under his head. "I needed to talk to someone. "

"Uh. Okay…." Santana stared at him through the dim light, wondering if she was caught up in some weird dream and Sugar was about to slink from between her curtains singing "I am Siamese if you please…"

Puck lay quiet for a moment, his eyes on the ceiling. Then he pulled a palm down his face so his features became elongated and sighed.

"Jesus Christ Jew-Boy, just spit it out." She slapped his thigh. "You didn't get someone else pregnant did you?"

"Worse," Puck groaned. Santana raised her eyebrows at his lap.

"It didn't...you know...stop working...did it?"

"What? Oh! God no. No, no."

"Well could you freaking hurry up? Because this already took up too much of my time when I had to read your text...Oh..." Santana had remembered Quinn. "Jesus don't tell me you're in on the whole adoption-sabotage thing as well?"

Puck propped himself up in surprise. "You know about that? How did you-" Santana shrugged.

"I know everything."

"Right," Puck deflated back onto Santana's pillows. "Well, no. I went around and took away all the stuff Quinn planted at Shelby's house yesterday evening. That's why I'm here now. Something happened while I was there and I can't stop freaking thinking about it."

"Did you realise that your baby was technically Rachel's adopted little sister and it made your world come crashing down around you? Because," Santana patted his arm sympathetically. "I could see how that would be rough."

Puck was frowning at her ceiling. "Nope. Worse. I kissed Rachel's Mom."

"You...ohahahah…" Santana put her hand on her chest, laughing in disbelief. "You kissed Shelby?" She chuckled a little more but it died as she caught the mortified look on Puck's face.

Aw, come on. You've kissed plenty of Moms. It's nothing new. This has to be your first mother-daughter combo though yeah?"

After a beat a slow, smug smile drifted across Puck's features.

"It's my fifth," He corrected. Santana grinned, holding her hand up and high-fiving him.

After a moment, Puck's smile faltered again."It's pretty frigging messed up though isn't it?"

Santana shrugged. "No worse than anything that crazy baby-momma of yours probably did."

"Bu-"

"Listen, you came to the wrong person if you want a lesson in morality. The only morality I adhere to is _never eat the salsa off another man's plate_. I was raised to believe morality meant listening to the man upstairs who never _actually_ speaks so it doesn't hold that much weight with me. I'm all for people messing up their lives. It's the only comedy that really suits my taste in humour." When Puck raised an eyebrow at her she shrugged, "British comedy is too winey."

"So...you think I should just forget about it?"

"There's no point flipping your lid over a stupid kiss. Just blame the weird affect that seeing the baby had on your ovaries and move on. Or, hell, do it again for all I care. It would be funny to see Rachel crap herself when she finds out."

"Yeah…" Puck nodded at her slowly, his eyes as unfocused as Quinn's had been in the car the other day. "Life's too short to not take chances on the people who make you feel alright."

"Well, within reason. Our school does not need another bout of Chlamydia thanks to you Puckerman."

"Shut your blow-hole Santana." He shoved her playfully and sat up. "Alright, I'll leave you to your much needed beauty sleep." He vaulted off the bed and ruffled her hair. Santana stood up as well, shushing him.

"Get out of here before you stink my room out." She shoved him towards the door.

"Alright alright," He held his hands up then pointed with one of them back to her bed. "You're getting a text."

Santana turned. On her bed, her phone was lit up and vibrating amongst her blankets. Santana frowned and walked over to pick it up.

"Booty call?" Puck asked behind her.

Santana blinked down at the screen and saw the message ribbon carrying Brittany's name. She clicked 'open' hurriedly.

_I can't sleep. Can you? I think it should be part of your girlfriendly duties to come keep me company. Lord T is ignoring his curfew again. _

Santana's face split into a grin. From the door Puck laughed smugly.

"Booty call," he repeated definitively. "Bye Santana, have fun!"

"Screw you!" She whispered after him as he eased her door closed. Still grinning at her phone Santana moved around her room, gathering clothes and books for school the next day with one hand and typing a reply with the other.


	9. The First Time

**Hello! Man, I haven't updated this thing since last year! (Sorry, sorry that was lame I know but I couldn't resist!) **

**Here is me filling in the blanks for Ep 5- The First Time- and its the first of two chapters dealing with the episode. That's because I think the musical was actually really important to Santana, and it's an awesome opportunity to get more out of her character. I also want to build up to reasons why she is so mean (even for Santana) to everyone in Ep 6- Mash-Off. **

**Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you guys read. Thanks again so much for the interest and the reviews are making this so much more rewarding than I ever thought. (The most satisfaction I thought I'd get was being able to curl up in my own little Brittana world. But knowing and hearing that other people like it too is so awesome!) So keep em' coming! Also suggestions are welcome too! **

**Ch 9: The First Time**

Santana never in a million years expected herself to be the person into whose arms a wailing Rachel Berry flung herself. Rachel had let herself go completely and Santana's muscles were a beat off being able to brace her , with a rustle of clothing and a clumsy 'oooff', Berry fell through the feeble resistance of Santana's limbs and sprawled onto the dusty stage floor at her feet.

Sniggers scattered across the people around them and Santana smirked as a grim faced Rachel got to her feet, dusting herself off briskly.

"Stop, stop!" Artie wheeled over to them, flapping a hand in annoyance.

"Rachel, I'll only say this one more time... The way your doing the whole...erm...crying thing...It makes you look like the guy I saw get hit by a bus when I was twelve. And not in a good way."

Rachel huffed. "I understand and respect your criticism. But seeing as you have never acted before I must point out and advise you that you really have be more accommodating to the physical manifestations of my deep, deep emotional connection to Maria's situation. "

Santana curled her lip in disgust. "You came at me like a freaking tropical storm and may I point out that while you're growth has obviously been stunted, you're still as heavy as a dead cow."

Rachel rolled her eyes and tsked. "And you call _me _dramatic," she said to Artie.

"That's because you are Rachel. It looks awful, you falling like a felled tree at Santana," snapped Quinn from where she stood with the rest of the Jets cast. Santana looked up to grin at her and ended up skittering her eyes over Brittany who was standing beside Quinn, frowning down at a half picked fingernail like it was the most intellectually engaging thing since the Fibonacci sequence.

The sound of Rachel wailing made Santana jump and she turned her eyes back to the situation in front of her. Rachel had begun pitch testing her sorrow with Artie shaking his head or nodding when he thought she'd gotten the right level of emotion. Santana stared at Rachel, becoming more and more convinced that she was actually _insane._ She'd decided during that evenings two hour rehearsal that Rachel Berry single-handedly disproved the phrase "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Before tonight Santana had actually been missing her daily dose of New Directions lameness. It was like that average candy that you'd never buy but when it's put in your Christmas stocking you get mildly addicted. But spending time Rachel had proved more than effective in curing Santana of any residual affection to that glee club.

Artie made them run through the scene several more times until Santana's back and arms ached from holding Rachel up. She was halfway through a mental murder plot when Miss Pillsbury approached the stage and warned Artie that the African Tribal Society needed the auditorium for a drum circle. Artie glanced at his Boba Fett wristwatch and nodded, signalling for them to stop. Santana unceremoniously dumped the still weeping Rachel back on the stage floor and turned on her heel, needing to put as much distance between herself and Berry before put she put her murder plot in motion and went loco on everyone's asses, including the poor unsuspecting Miss Pillsbury.

She was the first to collect her bag from the side stage and, fishing in the front pocket for her keys, she headed blindly for the exit doors.

At the threshold Santana stopped and let the fresh air hit her. She let it so deep into her lungs that it stung but her brain power kicked up a gear- away from the primal 'kill' level it had sunk to. She took a couple of steps towards her car and then stopped, frowning.

She'd forgotten Brittany.

She cursed and spun back to the entrance of the auditorium, wondering how the impending night home alone with Brittany could have slipped her mind.

When she re-entered the auditorium a bunch of people carrying drums were setting up in the centre of the stage. Off to one side watching them was Brittany, Mike, Artie and Tina. Britt was clutching her bag forlornly, looking like a little kid who was the last left waiting at the school gate after home-time. Santana felt a jerk of guilt inside her chest. She wasn't used to this whole girlfriend business.

She walked across the stage slowly, waiting for Brittany to look up from her conversation and spot her. But Mike was the one who looked up first and pointed. Brittany followed his gestured and when her eyes met Santana's her face brightened in a relieved smile.

"Sorry," Santana murmured, ignoring the others and approaching Brittany's side. "I had to get away before I castrated Berry."

"It's okay, Mike and Tina offered me a lift so it wasn't like I would have had to sleep on the piano like the last time I got stuck in here."

"Uh, right," Santana faltered. "Well, I'm here now so…" She jerked her head towards the exit.

"Bye guys!" Brittany called over her shoulder as Santana hooked their pinkies together and tugged her forwards.

"Uh, so that's a no to dinner then?" Tina called.

"Uhm." Brittany stopped and Santana followed suit, wheeling around to look from Brittany to the others.

"Dinner?" She raised her eyebrows at Brittany.

"Ah, yup." Brittany said. Santana caught the measured casualness in her voice. "Mike and Tina invited Artie and I to dinner tonight."

"My Mom's doing Asian style turkey," Mike explained.

"An old fave of ours," Artie said, grinning at Brittany. Santana flushed, annoyance stringing straight back through her nerves.

"Oh?" She worked to keep her voice calm and even. "You can go if you want."

Beside her, Brittany pulled a face and Santana knew she'd caught the test in her words. She shook her head.

"I would but San and I have plans."

Santana saw Tina's measure gaze flit back and forth between her and Brittany. "Oh, okay. Well, another time then?"

"Of course!"

"I'm gunna eat your share of the turkey Britt and not regret a thing!" Artie called as they headed for the exit.

"Have fun!" Brittany laughed back over her shoulder.

They didn't speak again until they were inside the stiff aired interior of Santana's car. Brittany sunk low in her seat and tilted the top half back with the lever. Santana noticed her movement and paused with her hand ready on the key to turn the car on.

"You tired?"

Brittany shook her head.

"You know you can go to Mike's if you want. Asian turkey doesn't sound like something that's offered to the world that often."

Brittany shook her head again and then tilted her chin upwards. Her the outline of her lips caught the wafting glow from the security light nearby. Santana's eyes drifted to them.

"What do you want to do?" She asked Brittany softly.

As an answer, Brittany titled her chin up further.

Santana hesitated, glancing out the darkened windows around them. The car park was littered with a few cars but Santana could see no movement. She turned her eyes back to Brittany, trailing them down her face, her neck, the curves of her chest. Santana twisted in her seat and leant against Brittany, pressing their lips together, wanting so badly to taste her, to have Brittany open up her mouth and spill very secret she'd ever kept, every word she'd ever spoken. Santana had the sudden realisation that she just _couldn't _get as close as she wanted to Brittany but she tried anyway, cupping her hands on either side of Brittany's face, coaxing her mouth open with her tongue.

With a sharp intake of breath through her nose Brittany responded to Santana's kiss, opening her mouth and curling her tongue hotly against Santana's. Santana groaned amidst their kiss and surged harder in her seat towards Brittany. She felt Brittany's hands curve around her jaw, anchoring their lips closer together. Santana drifted a hand down the swell of Brittany's breasts, shuddering in pleasure as she felt the faint jut of Brittany's hard nipple through her clothes.

After a few moments of this weightlessness, Santana began to feel breathless and lightheaded. She pulled away and leant sideways on her headrest, panting. Brittany frowned at her, her lips swollen from the intensity of their kissing. Santana felt a tug between her legs and had to close her eyes and shake her head.

"Hey," Brittany's voice was reproachful. Santana didn't open her eyes and she shook her head again.

"I can't handle you when you're like this."

"Like what?" Brittany asked. Santana opened her eyes and ran them all over Brittany's body.

"I-I want you," she said as an answer. Brittany smiled smugly and sidled closer.

"I want you too… obviously," she said huskily. Santana smirked, shaking her head for the third time.

"I want you. But not like this. I want you in my bed, with no one in the house to catch us. I feel like we're participating in the opening scene of some teenage spoof movie right now. Where the stupid bi-curious girls get their faces hacked off and their panties sniffed by the clumsy Screamesque serial killer."

As Brittany laughed Santana sat up and ignited the car engine. When she twisted to navigate her way out of the park she caught Brittany still turned sideways in her seat, still smiling at her.

"My bed." She repeated firmly, accelerating a little too abruptly from the park.

/

They crept up to Santana's room in the dark. The press of the silence and Brittany's body fumbling against her own excited Santana and when they got to her bedroom she could already feel they heavy press of arousal between her legs. She let Brittany move into her room first, and then she shut the door behind them and leant against it.

Her room was made up of shadows- dark forms that had once been her furniture. Somewhere to the left of her Santana heard the whisper of scattered clothing and something, though she could not say exactly what, glinted in the dimness.

Santana leant her head back against the cool wood of the door and closed her eyes, feeling her heart beat right through her body. She heard the soft padding of Brittany's footsteps, she felt the movement in the carpet beneath her feet. And then the long, warm press of Brittany's body was against her own, pushing it harder against the door. Keeping her eyes closed, her breath catching, Santana lifted her hands and placed them against Brittany's bare back- her palms fanning across the juts of Brittany's ribs. She felt Britt shiver against her at the touch.

"Still not regretting giving up the turkey?" Santana whispered, bending her head to brush her lips against Brittany's neck.

"Not one bit," Brittany whispered back.

"It'd be better than being stuck here with me, surely. The company over there would have just be so. Freaking. Thrilling." Santana opened her mouth and swept her tongue over the spot she'd just kissed. Brittany groaned, tilting her chin so Santana had more room.

"I don't regret not going. I just think…." Brittany hesitated as Santana took a little of the skin on her neck in between her teeth and bit down gently. "That you...should be a little nicer to them."

Santana slipped her hands up and down Brittany's body, crushing her closer. She trailed open mouthed kissed up and down her neck, overwhelmed by the smell of her perfume.

"Mmm? Why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Because they're our friends. And if you were nicer then maybe they'd invite you places too."

"Those losers aren't my friends," Santana said dismissively. "They're like road cones- Useful and satisfying to run over but ugly and oddly shaped." She trailed her hands down to the curve of Brittany's butt, opening her palm against it and squeezing.

"_This _is the only friend I need," She murmured. Brittany's laughter vibrated in her throat against Santana's lips.

"You need friends that aren't body parts, silly."

"I believe they disproved that theory on the last season of MythBusters." Santana flicked the hair away from her face and bent back to Brittany's neck, but Brittany's hands caught around her jaw and tilted it back up until Santana could see her pouting.

"But didn't you ever get lonely? Even now, you're mean to like, everyone apart from me and Mr Tubs.

"That's because he's my homeboy. And um, urgh, why are we even discussing this?" She fanned her hands around Brittany's hips, shifting them flush against hers. Then she leant in to kiss her. Their lips met, but Brittany began to speak through the kiss.

"They would have invited you because I know that they like you. You're just a bit scary sometimes and people get intimidated."

"And that should concern me how?"

"Because, Santana," Brittany's voice was soft and slightly pleading. "You can't act like you hate them when we've all been through so much together and they are pretty much like family. "

"This is not happening." Santana held up a hand to stop Brittany's words and pushed past her, walking across the dark room and flopping on her bed. She glared back toward the door at Brittany's shadowy form.

"You really know how to kill the mood don't you?"

Wordlessly, Brittany walked over to the bed and sat beside her. Santana trailed her eyes over the bare skin of Brittany's back and the pales tops of her breasts curving into the black lace of her bra. Santana wanted to put her mouth there, but right now it was full of resentment.

Brittany, with all the insistence of a freight train, carried on talking.

"I just don't want you to get lonely or think that no one likes you because I know they do."

Santana blinked. "I'm not lonely. I have you Britt." Hoping that would be enough to get her off the subject, Santana curved closer and trailed a finger between the dip in Brittany's shoulder blades.

Brittany nodded slowly, her face turned solemnly down to her lap. "Uhuh, you do have me. But I shouldn't be your only friend_ and _your girlfriend. Because then who will you brag to about tapping yo' fine missus?"

Santana shrugged. "I can brag to you can't I?"

"Yeah but. It's not the same. And besides, I want...You know...I want you to be nice to people so they'll invite you places so I won't have to go alone." Brittany looked sideways at Santana, sticking out her bottom lip.

"I'm not ready for everyone to know yet."

"No, I know. That's not what I meant. It's just that when Artie and I were dating w-"

The rise of anger was so sudden within Santana that she frightened herself. She dropped her hand from Brittany's back like she'd been shocked and she flinched violently away.

"Can we just stop fucking talking about this?" She snapped loudly.

Brittany stared at her, wide-eyed. Santana bit her lip and vaulted her eyes to the ceiling to stop the tears. She regretted swearing at Brittany the moment it had formed on her tongue. But she was still angry. So angry. She didn't apologise.

The silence seemed to create a gulf between them.

In a small voice Brittany finally said: "Yep, okay. We can."

"Urgh." Overwhelmed with annoyance Santana flopped back on the bed and turned her back to Brittany, laying on the very edge of the mattress. She stared so hard into the dark that the shadows began to swim. After a while she felt the mattress shift and then the warm length of Brittany's body was pressing along her back.

"I'm sorry." Brittany's whisper scattered across her ear, making a few wisps of hair tickle the side of Santana's nose.

In angry impulse, Santana shrugged her away.

"Don't."

"San…"

Santana ignored her, shifting further still towards the edge of the bed. The frustration and anger curdled too violently within her to just lay still so she vaulted off the bed and went to the bathroom, sitting on the close lidded toilet trying to stop her insides boiling. Then she brushed her teeth and pressed a cool flannel to her face, avoiding looking in the mirror.

When she slipped back inside her room she could make out Brittany's shape under the blankets with her back turned to the door. Santana stripped off her clothes and shrugged on a tank she found on her floor then she climbed in her bed beside Brittany, her back to her. She breathed in the cool mint of her toothpaste, trying hard not to feel all the doubts worm their way into her ear drums until they had filled her head.

The dark began to whisper to her.

_Brittany did have a point._

_You have no one else._

_It was her way of telling you she's sick of you. _

_You're such a clingy girlfriend. _

_Finish this sentence: "When Britt and Artie were dating…" _

_She was happy. She was social. She didn't have to sneak kisses in a deserted parking lot and hold hands under napkins. _

_When Britt was dating Artie she was in a real relationship. _

Santana felt panic rise in her throat like bile, her eyes snapping open to the gloom of her bedroom. She took several shallow breaths, trying to ignore the rising pressure of tears in her chest. She sniffed, once, twice, and then rolled over to her other side.

Brittany was facing her in the dark and it made Santana start. She hadn't heard her move. In a tentative, gentle way that made Santana ache, Brittany reached across and smoothed the hair off Santana's face.

"You're really beautiful." She whispered. Santana closed her eyes as the words came to her across the space between their faces. "Don't be scared to be nice. Show them the person you show me, that's all you have to do."

Santana screwed her eyes closed harder as the tears came. She sniffed again.

"Next time they ask you to go out to dinner or something then I want you to go, okay? They miss you." She met Brittany's eyes, "and...I'll try to be a bit nicer. But I draw the line a Berry. And at Finn."

Brittany's grin shone in the dimness. "I don't blame you. They are the real life Jessie and James from Team Rocket."

"Team…" Santana frowned.

"Pokémon," Brittany clarified, wiggling across the bed until she could fold Santana into her arms. Santana shifted too, pressing her face into the soft skin at the tops of Brittany's breasts. She inhaled and felt a tug of arousal at the scent of Brittany's faintly perfumed skin.

"Do you remember that Christmas your parents got you that Pokémon Game Boy game and you took it to school and played it under your desk in class?" she asked. Brittany's cheek was pressed against the top of Santana's head so she felt the muscles move when Brittany grinned.

"Yeah. Pokémon Red. I still have it somewhere."

"You named one of your Pokémon after me." Santana recalled, tilting her head up to see Brittany smiling, her eyes slightly unfocused as she remembered.

"Mmm, yeah, I did. Charmander."

"Yeah, that's the one." Santana settled her face back into the crease of Brittany's neck.

After a pause, Santana felt Brittany shift and then one of her hands was tugging gently at the hem of Santana's tank. Santana raised her eyes again, smirking. But Brittany's gaze went passed Santana's face, down to the outline of her breasts peaking over the top of her shirt.

"Oh so you've just realised you'd like to do more with our night alone than bug me about glee club?"

"Mhmmm," Brittany didn't look away from Santana's cleavage and her hand climbed higher. Santana tsked and reach down to grip Brittany's elbow, pulling her hand out from underneath her top. Then in one fluid motion Santana used her body weight to shift Brittany on her back and straddle her hips, clutching both of Brittany's wrists above her head.

"Did I say you could touch me?" Santana said huskily. Beneath her, Brittany pouted and shook her head. Santana's smirk grew wider. She bent down until their breasts were hard up against one another's and Santana's lips were at Brittany's ear.

"Raise your hips," She commanded. Brittany's lips parted and a gush of air shot out. Then, Santana felt movement beneath her as she obeyed.

Santana wriggled down, hooking Brittany's underwear in her index fingers and dragging them along with her. She got the end of the bed and flicked them off Brittany's feet. Then Santana raised her eyes to what she'd uncovered. Brittany was so perfect down there that it made Santana ache. Santana's eyes took her in, wishing it wasn't so dark in her room.

She lifted her eyes to Brittany's face. Her expression was tense. Maybe reading into Santana's look, maybe nervous to be completely bare in front of her. Maybe impatient. She had her hands gripping Santana's forearms, her fingernails digging into the skin.

_Impatient, _Santana decided.

Santana trailed her own fingers down Brittany's thighs, tracing the faint twist of veins that stood out on her pale skin. Santana's had never been so pronounced and Brittany's amazed her. It was like her body was giving Santana a map to decipher all its twists and turns, all it's wonders. Santana trailed her lips after her fingertips until the both met the soft folds between Brittany's legs. Santana shifted her hands up to cup the juts of Brittany's hip bones, anchoring them in place. Then she shuffled her body until she was lying on her stomach. She turned her face up and kissed Brittany's folds. Underneath her palms, Brittany's hips shuddered. Santana heard her groan softly further up the bed.

Santana opened her mouth and parted the folds with her tongue as Brittany shifted her legs further apart.

Santana felt her insides turn into a jumbled, throbbing mess as the taste of Brittany's wetness met her tongue. She curled it upwards and moved back and forth against the ridges of Brittany's clit. Brittany's shaking hands were tangled in Santana's hair, guiding her closer. With her hot wet folds all round Santana's face she could hardly take in anything else. The bed could have vanished and Santana wouldn't have noticed. Even Brittany's moans seemed far away.

Santana moved her tongue against Brittany until her jaw ached and Brittany squirmed beneath her in pleasure. She tasted Brittany until she was sure it would linger in her mouth forever. She wished it would. Dimly, she felt Brittany's hands curve around her upper arms, pulling her upwards. Confused, Santana frowned into her face.

"Please," Brittany said hoarsely, tugging Santana's hand back down between her legs. With a hot rush across Santana's nerves she realised what Brittany wanted. She shifted further up the bed, curving one arm underneath Brittany's shoulders, securing her rapid heartbeat against Santana's own.

Santana felt the breath leave her as she slid two fingers easily inside of Brittany, leaning down to kiss her so that Britt could taste herself on Santana's tongue.

"Harder." Brittany was clinging around her shoulders, breathing roughly in her ear.

They moved harder and faster against one another. Santana could feel nothing and everything all at once. She was burning and she hadn't even been touched. Their bodies curved against one another, fitting and flexing and arching.

They could have been dancing.

It was when Brittany stilled, her facial muscles flickering as the waves of pleasure crashed through her, that Santana realised dancing was what they'd been doing all along.


	10. Your Own Kind

**Phew! This is the longest chapter yet! Didn't actually get around to going too in depth into the musical part of things but I feel like I covered some more important things! **

**I hope you enjoy it! This has probably been the hardest chapter to write and I feel like after you read it I'll have some explaining to do so look out for my note at the end! **

**The interest is still continuing which is great! Remember to review! Even just naming a fave line or something coz it inspires me so much! **

**Ch 10: Your Own Kind**

"Mmm, Santana I like you in the red one." Santana held the dress up against herself.

"Yeah?" She took his words with a grain of salt, this was the 5th time Artie had changed his mind. He had his hand curled around his mouth, his index finger slanted over his top lip like a moustache and his eyebrows pulled so low they were in danger of pushing his glasses down his nose.

"Uhh...Wait. Hold up the black again." Santana rolled her eyes and obeyed.

From beside her, Rachel opened her mouth to put in her equivalent of two-cents worth in. "_Personally, _I think the red. It really highlights the violence and passion and bitterness that Anita goes through and it would act as an excellent foreshadowing device for the rest of the play. Not to mention it really plays up the motif of bloodshed and her Puerto Rican background." She shrugged, "but of course that is just the lowly opinion of your lead actress and a girl who spent her entire 9th grade summer break storyboarding her own one person production of West Side Story."

"Uh," Artie paused, and Rachel jerked her head up with another idea. The wide intensity in her eyes disturbed Santana and was reminiscent of those creepy twins on _The Shining_. If Rachel began croaking "_Redrum_" Santana would know it was time to threaten her with an exorcist again.

Rachel walked over and plucked a white dress from her own pile of potential costumes. She held it up against herself and then gestured back and forth between herself and Santana.

"Red is also the _perfect _contrast to Maria's white. Maria is innocent and far more optimistic than Anita. Plus, there is the virginal aspect of the character…"

"No, no." Artie shook his head. "I mean, yes Rachel I agree with the whole naïve thing and it _is _a good contrast. But," he rolled himself closer. "Just so we're clear, the whole thing I said about virginity yesterday still stands. I want a _Tony-loving _Maria, not a _Chastity-belt _wearing Maria. Ain't no nuns up in herrr…"

Santana cringed as he performed the gangsta attitude finger flick.

"That is very rich coming from you Arnie Grape," she scoffed.

"Firstly Santana, I'm a film buff which means that I can smell a badly applied film reference from a mile off. To begin with, your comparison of me with Arnie Grape is flawed from its premise as he is mentally disabled whereas I am _physically_ disabled. Also, my mother does not need a forklift to help her out of bed. I will however take the compliment of being likened to Leonardo DiCaprio. And lastly, I _can_ indeed talk about sex- I'm not a virgin." He puffed his chest up a little in pride. Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Aw, yay for you Cripple Pants. Who climbed aboard and took a wild ride on that wheelchair roller coaster of love?" She tilted her head and smiled, expecting to get some sort of rise- amused or otherwise- out of Artie. Instead he looked suddenly awkward and slid his eyes to the floor. Santana frowned in confusion and looked to Rachel who was fiddling with her hands, shooting Artie furtive glances.

For a spilt second Santana felt a creeping horror at the thought that Rachel and Artie had gotten their freak on. But then she realised that she was very wrong. She wasn't quick enough to stop Rachel's next words and she fought the impulse to cover her ears and 'la-la-la' her way through the information she'd just realised was coming. The information she should have known all along.

"Uh, I believe that if Brittany is a reliable source it was...Brittany," Rachel said.

"I know it was," Santana snapped.

"But you said…"

Santana cut across Rachel. "Duh. I was just demonstrating how completely surprising it is that someone would actually do him."

"But you said…" Rachel tried again, frowning at her.

"Oh. My. God. Can you just stop acting like a freaking Dictaphone? I mean I'm flattered that you commit all my words to memory but I don't need a play-by-play of everything that comes out of my mouth."

"But…"

"Jesus!" Santana threw her hands up. "Turns out you're more like cancer than I thought- you just keep on finding ways new ways to piss us all off." Santana dropped the black dress on the stage floor and swung the red one in Artie's face.

"I'm going to try this one on okay? Executive decision being made right here and be thankful it's just a decision on my dress because I'm almost, _almost _angry enough to put _you_ in the black dress and Rachel in a Teletubbies costume. And believe me when I tell you that neither of you would be in any state to object." She whipped around and strode to the back of the stage where a make-shift curtained changing room had been erected.

Once she was covered by the curtain she physically sank. Her knees bent and her shoulders hunched forwards. She curled her arms around her churning stomach and tried to steady her breathing. She had no idea why she was upset, nor why it wouldn't have occurred to her that Brittany had slept with Artie. Brittany threw sex to boys like you'd throw a tennis ball at a dog. But Santana had just assumed...What had she assumed? She'd assumed that he didn't work _down there._ But then she'd assumed that stealing Brittany from him would have been as easy as out-running Lauren Zizes. Turns out Santana had been wrong on both counts.

She took so long to get dressed that when she stepped out of the changing room she saw that the rest of the cast had assembled in the auditorium for their own costume run through. Grouped nearest her were Quinn, Mike, Tina and some football players she recognised from parties.

"You look awesome Santana," Tina smiled politely.

"A devil in a red dress," Quinn agreed softly.

"Thanks," Santana muttered, lifting the dress up above her ankles so she could step over the clusters of bags and back over to Rachel and Artie. Rachel had on her white dress and Santana was surprised to see it was actually flattering. Santana walked closer, preparing an insult-mingled apology to Rachel when she caught sight of Brittany and Rory standing behind Artie. Rory had his head bent close to Brittany, saying something to her that made her laugh and shake her head. Santana stumbled on the hem of her dress. At the sound, all four of them looked around at her. She righted herself, pretending as always that she wasn't self-conscious but Brittany's gaze stood out in her peripheral vision.

Rachel was looking her up and down. "Well Santana, despite your obvious aversion to my opinion in general I'm just going to go ahead and say that I think you stand in perfect contrast to my Maria."

"Lookn' fine Lopez!" Puck said as he waltzed onto the stage, curving his lips around a low whistle.

Santana smirked and gave him the fingers. Then she turned back to Rachel.

"Thanks. I'll try my best not to upstage you."

"You may have to get those removed if you're gunna try that," Puck grinned, nodding at Santana's chest.

"Go abuse yourself over them where no one can see you," she shoved him playfully then turned to Artie. "So R2D2, can I take this off now? You happy?"

Artie wheeled himself closer, looking mildly afraid that she'd addressed him.

"It's-it's all good Santana. You're done now."

She nodded and went to turn away when she caught Brittany's gaze. It roamed over her body, lingering at all the places the dress clung to. Resentment coiled in her chest and released like a spring when she saw Brittany looking at her that way. She was so angry at Brittany and she couldn't even say why. The fact that Brittany had been someone elses wasn't a good enough reason, Santana knew. But it didn't stop her blood boiling at the thought. Feeling tears mounting, she smiled vaguely around at everyone and headed back to the changing room with her head down. Once inside she tugged the dress off herself harshly, putting her normal clothes back on as her face began to screw up against the tears. She tried to compose herself, pressing the pads of her thumbs against her eyes. She still had half a day left at school and she _did not_ need her make up turning her into an abused Panda.

Someone tugged at her curtain.

"Santana?" She lifted her face to the sound and froze. She didn't recognise the voice but it could have been Brittany's. Had she been able to see that Santana was upset?

"It's Quinn. Are you nearly done with the changing room? Sugar's in the other one."

"Uh yup," Santana called in a wavering voice. She sniffed. "Just about."

She bundled the dress around the coat hanger and swept the curtain open, brushing quickly past Quinn and choosing the most deserted path to exit the stage. She didn't even return the dress to the stands like she was supposed to, she'd just keep it in her locker until the next rehearsal. Santana kept her head down when she reached the student swarm in the hallway and aimed for her locker, shoving a weedy kid wearing a fedora out of the way as she went. When she reached her locker she saw white Cheerios sneakers that matched her own standing beside it. She looked up. Brittany stood grinning at her.

"You took the long way to your locker so I beat you here."

"You did." Santana agreed, fumbling with her locker combination. It was awkward with one hand and she messed up the combination.

Brittany's hands were warm and sure as they reached past her own and twisted in the correct one, unclicking the lock and pulling the door open. Santana, still unable to look her fully in the face, nodded vaguely over her shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem," Brittany said brightly, stepping back to let Santana shove the dress into her locker. She drew the books she needed for the next period out and bumped it closed with her hip. Brittany reached back helpfully to attach the lock again.

"Thanks," Santana muttered again, turning from the locker and walking away. She felt propelled to get away from the hall, and the crowd and all the undercurrents between she and Brittany that people could surely feel threading around them. Santana's grip on her composure was tenuous, and she felt her anger loaded in her chest- dark and heavy. She needed her car. She needed the press of silence around her. She heard footsteps matching pace with her own and she knew they were Brittany's.

As if knowing, Brittany said nothing, just followed her out of the double doors and down the steps to the car. Santana unlocked it and slid inside, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. The car shifted slightly as Brittany sat down in the passenger seat and edged the door closed. She placed one hand on Santana's back, rubbing circles.

"Have you got a Berry-Migraine again?"

"Something like that."

"Hmmm, I don't have any vodka this time. That's what you took last time to make you feel better right?"

"Think it was whiskey," Santana mumbled. Now that she thought about, her head was throbbing and her neck felt heavy and stiff. She wanted to go home and sleep, what with school, the Trouble Tones, the Cheerios _and_ the musical Santana felt like she was merely being swept along by a heavy tide. Maybe that was why she lost her grip on her feelings so easily. Usually she had them reigned in tightly against her but lately they'd been slipping from her fingers, running riot. She could hardly blame Brittany for that. Especially not when Brittany took so much care around her. Brittany put the pads up around the things Santana smashed down, just so she wouldn't cut her knuckles.

Santana let out long breath and then turned so her cheek was against the wheel. Brittany was looking at her, her eyebrows slightly furrowed over her eyes. Her hand still made circles in between Santana's shoulder blades.

Santana couldn't help but wonder if Brittany had done this to Artie. Then her mind drifted over the thing she'd been trying especially hard _not _to think about. How had they even managed to have sex? Did he just lie beneath her like a dummy? Santana would bet he hadn't lasted long at all on their first time. She bet it was _nothing_ like her first time with Brittany. They'd been young and clumsy but Santana remembered Brittany's moans, Brittany's eagerness, Brittany's jarring finish. She held that night up above the others, because it was like a first breath or a first smile. It was like opening your eyes for the first time- natural but cataclysmic.

"Britt."

"Mmm?"

"What do you remember about our first time?"

"The first time we stole your neighbours Vogue subscription from her letter box?" Santana laughed at the memory, but shook her head.

"No the first time that we _did stuff._"

_"_Oh!" Brittany chuckled at her mistake. "Hmm, not much." She bit her lip and turned her eyes out of windscreen. "We were…"

"Pretty drunk, yeah I know." Santana finished, sitting up and looking with Britt out the window. They could see the field from here, and the bleachers dotted with students eating their lunch.

"I remember you kissed me first."

Santana snorted. "You didn't complain."

Brittany wasn't fazed. "Why would I? You tasted like Berry Burst lollipops and Gin."

"Always a winning combination," Santana grinned.

"Uhuh. And...oh," Brittany expelled air out of her nose and grinned, "I remember feeling like I was going to get sick but you were kissing me and I was too afraid you'd stop so I didn't tell you."

Santana raised her eyebrows and turned to stare at Brittany. "Really?"

Brittany twitched and rubbed her nose, nodding. "Really, really."

"That's a little gross," Santana laughed.

"I took my chances. And it worked out okay so," she shrugged. Santana laughed, nodding in agreement, then became solemn as she recognised the window had opened up to ask what she really wanted to.

"You and Artie…When you were dating you guys..." She hesitated. Brittany tilted her head expectantly. "You guys had sex right?"

Brittany nodded, the skin between her eyebrows creasing.

Santana bit her lip. "Would you be honest with me if I asked you something about that?"

Brittany jerked her head back, frowning down her nose. "I'm always honest," she said. "I've forgotten how to lie...It's all too complicated. Like long addition."

"Okay, good. Was it...was I...was our…" Santana shook her head, compressing her lips. She mentally tested a few different phrasings while Brittany continued to look at her attentively. "Was our first time...and your first with him...which was better?"

Brittany's eyes trailed over her face, Santana had to force herself not to look away. She searched for a flicker of emotion, a dulling in Britt's eye- anything that would indicate Brittany _did _know how to lie.

"Santana, of all the questions I could answer, you ask the most boring one. I was expecting like, _was it as skinny as his legs_? Or, _why did he once make you wear a Princess Leia dress_? Or, _was it awkward that time he cried when you went down-_"

"Wow, okay, okay." Santana held her hand up. Brittany stopped speaking and Santana shook her head, trying to scatter the images that she'd just gotten in her mind. She was going to need therapy after that. "I'll just take the answer to my question thanks."

Brittany shrugged. "Your loss I guess. And the answer is mine and yours."

Santana felt something warm spill through her. "Why was our better?" She heard the sharp angles of pride in her own voice and saw that Brittany must have caught them too because she smiled knowingly.

"Because you gave me funny tingles all over and you were mean but nice all at once and it was confusing and made my head spin and I was drunk so it all mixed together and I felt like I was flying. With Artie...I mean when we first did it I was still all mad at you coz you sung with Mercedes and shook your lady parts in my face and made me feel sad and so I did it to stop thinking about you but it didn't work and I ended up thinking about you too much and then I said your name because I forgot his."

Santana's jaw literally dropped.

"No _frigging_ way. You said _my _name?" Brittany batted a hand at her.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She exclaimed. Santana felt a balloon of smugness welling inside her chest. Suddenly she wanted to go and hug the poor bastard. How embarrassing. No wonder he was awkward about telling Santana. She began to laugh while Brittany pouted at her. She was grinning like a maniac, and Brittany began to laugh too, turning away and shaking her head.

The back door of the car opened and Santana jumped.

Quinn slid onto the back seat.

"Hey guys," She smiled, looking windswept. Santana and Brittany shifted around in their seats to see her better, both still half laughing.

"Hi," Brittany said. Quinn folded her hands onto her lap and looked between them.

"What's so funny?"

"Santana and I were just talking about the first time we…."

Santana went cold, and she cut hurriedly over Brittany. "T-the first time we got drunk." Quinn was looking bemusedly at her and Santana realised that she must look like she'd just crapped her spankies. She rearranged her features in a casual smile.

"What with all this time spent with Berry I've found I need some hard liquor to keep me from killing her."

"Trust me, I know all about that," Quinn said lightly.

"Well then, I'll bring something with a bite for tomorrow's rehearsal," Santana assured her.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. Artie wanted me to tell you Britt that you've got to go to his place tomorrow evening instead of the auditorium."

"Uh," Santana frowned, her face heating in annoyance. "_Just _Brittany? Why _just _Brittany?" Quinn frowned.

"No," she said slowly. "Not _just _Brittany. Me and the others have been asked over as well."

"Oh." Santana felt her stomach drop. She wanted to ask why she wasn't included but she didn't trust her voice. And Brittany beat her to it.

"How come Santana isn't needed?"

Quinn shrugged. "She was the only one that managed to sort her costume I'm guessing. No one else did and that's why we're going to Arties- someone has already booked the auditorium." Santana swallowed resentment, trying not to let it choke her with tears.

"Rachel sorted hers didn't she? Is she going?"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"She was the one who suggested it so I'm guessing so."

Brittany was frowning, chewing on her lip. "I'm going to have to reschedule my guest appearance at the Highland Dance Group meeting."

"There's a Highland dancing group at McKinley?" Quinn asked in surprise.

"Yahuh. They performed at assembly not too long ago. At first I thought they were Scientologists and I was afraid of them but I did some research and turns out that it's just some Scottish dancing tradition not a Scientology recruitment ceremony. So I'm going to befriend them and get them to vote for me for Senior Class President. I'm going to promise to provide highlands for them to dance in if they vote for me."

/

_This is jst getting worse. Finn is here and Tina cried coz Sugar told her that she blames her and her country for the death of Free Willy. :(((((_

Santana clicked reply to Brittany's message.

_Finn's there? I thought it was just cast members? And tell Sugar that Tina isn't Japanese so she can't be blamed for the Whales. She may have had something to do with Lassie's death though. . _

She clicked send and flopped over onto her stomach, leaning her cheek on the headrest of the couch. On her TV screen Chandler and Joey were beating Monica and Rachel in game that Ross had made up. Rachel had just messed up the name of Chandler's profession.

"THAT'S NOT EVEN A WORD," Monica screeched. It amused Santana but she didn't crack a smile. Whenever re-runs of Friends were on Santana took it as a sign from God that she should blob on the couch. Tonight however the fact that she had no choice sort of put a dampener on things. The reality that the only person who wanted to spend time with her was busy with a whole bunch of people who didn't appreciate her presence was sort've kicking Santana in the gut right now. She checked her cell phone for the time.

7.14 p.m. Four minutes since she'd last checked. _Jesus. _She huffed a sigh and scrolled through her contacts, looking for someone who she could hang out with that wouldn't want to make her tear off her fingernails. She got to 'M' and paused, her eyes hovering on Mercedes name. Figuring it'd be better than nothing she hit the call button.

Mercedes picked up after the 5th ring.

"Uh, _Santana_? What's the emergency?" She sounded anxious.

"Huh? No emergency. Calm your weave Shaniqua."

"Rrright. Well, what's up?"

"Bored. Everyone is at Artie's doing the musical. I thought maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner or something and do some scheming for the Troubletones."

"I thought you were in the musical as well?"

"I am but I sorted my shit so I don't need to be there. Obviously you know I'm desperate because I'm calling you."

Mercedes snorted. "Gee, thanks."

"So what do you say?"

"Uh, okay…But only if you promise you won't tease me about Shane."

"Aw I wouldn't tease! I was a fan way back when he ran around Yellowstone National Park with Boo-Boo bear trying to steal picnic baskets."

"Santana…" Mercedes said warningly.

"Okay, okay. Calm your farm. See you in half an hour at Breadstix."

She clicked her phone off and drew herself up off the couch. In her hand, the phone beeped with an incoming message.

_Just asked why Finn was here and Rachel said Artie let people bring their bfs and gfs. And then Finn said that I should have invited my bf and when I told them I didn't have one they all looked at one another and laughed. :( It feels like that time when Puck and I played cards and he told me to go fish and so I left to hitch a ride to the coast. Sad unicorn. Jokes on me :((( _

Santana glared down at the message. She could picture that smug post-lame joke smirk that Finn got across his face.

"Shit," Santana said bitterly to her empty living room. They'd usually never dare to mock Brittany when Santana was there, she would have snapped their necks in less time than it took Finn to prematurely ejaculate. The speed of freaking light.

Santana furiously tapped out a reply detailing exactly what she would do to Finn when she got her hands on him, and then headed for her room to make herself presentable for Breadstix.

/

Santana was in such a foul mood that even the delicious carb-loaded cheesy goodness smell of Breadstix didn't make her feel any less like murdering Finn Hudson. Mercedes was already waiting, chewing on the straw of her coke. Santana slid into the booth opposite her.

"Hey Wheezy." Mercedes looked up. She trailed her eyes up and down Santana's short, _short _black dress.

"You look like you're going to do a special performance at Miss Ribena's Play House."

Santana shrugged, signalling to a young guy in a waiter's uniform lingering nearby.

"It's useful when you want to eat for the price of one." Santana said, clasping her hands together and squeezing so that her breasts raised flush against the top of her dress.

"Watch this," she smirked as the boy made his way to them.

"_Impressive!" _Mercedes grinned as Santana managed to score two complementary starters and two cokes from the poor kid who managed to take their order- write it down and everything- without looking away from Santana's cleavage.

She shrugged modestly.

"It's not too hard. Bet he's going to jerk off in the staff bathrooms before we get our food so it could be a bit delayed."

Mercedes wrinkled her nose.

Santana's phone buzzed in her clutch on the table and she drew it out. She saw that there were two unread from Brittany. She clicked the _read_ option on the first one.

_Blaine is the only nice boy here. Kurt isn't talking to him though. He's being a silly unicorn. Blaine is a unicorn too I've decided. _

Then, the message she'd just received:

_All the football guys are asking me how long your fingers are. Finn and Rory laughed lots when I tried to show them .I don't get it! :((((( _

Santana stiffened, clenching her teeth and squeezing her phone until the plastic ridges dug painfully into her palm. The pain wasn't satisfying enough. She wanted to bust her knuckles open on Finn and Rory's faces.

"Uh...Santana? You okay?" Mercedes was looking at her in mild alarm, her straw dangling limply from her mouth.

"Mmm," Santana was afraid to unclench her teeth. She was angry enough to scream, to upturn a table. She was angry enough to tell Mercedes everything. She fixed her eyes on Mercedes and then said, "Finn is being an ass to Brittany at the fitting."

"Oh."

"Well, all the boys are. Except Blaine apparently."

"What are they saying?" Mercedes let the straw go and sat up straighter in the booth. Santana looked back down at the message and frowned. The words were welling up in her throat like vomit.

"They're making digs at her about me. About...well…They're being pervy assholes."

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"That isn't exactly a huge surprise. According to Shane in the locker rooms they are always gagging over the thought of you and B. Have been ever since that article." Santana felt herself go _bright _red. She knew even her olive skin couldn't hide it. She flattened her clammy palms on the table, casting aside her phone. It clattered across the table and Mercedes looked down at the still lit up screen. Her eye brows shot up as she read the message. Santana felt frozen in her seat, she knew it was too late to snatch the phone back.

"What the...that is some whack shit. Did they actually ask her that?"

Santana nodded, reaching over to take her phone back. She felt her eyes watering but she blinked them fiercely. The kid arrived back with their starters and cokes and Santana was hoping the food would distract Mercedes but when the kid left she looked at Santana with pity all over her face. Santana didn't know what to do. Pity was not an expression many people reserved for her. She looked away and took a sip of her coke. It tasted flat but cold and it felt good on Santana's throat.

"Santana." Mercedes was still looking at her.

"Mmm?"

"I know."

"Know what?" The words felt fat and heavy in her mouth. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Trying to keep casual, she took another sip of coke as the world imploded around her.

"Santana."

Santana would never admit it, but deep down she knew that everyone knew. Every glance in the hallways at school stung her like an electric fly swat. Every conversation that ended abruptly as she entered the room was another nick in her armour. She knew the joke was on her but she refused to laugh along. It was easier to pretend that they were all wrong. See, it was easier to resent them for being wrong than for being right.

She and Mercedes were sitting two booths down from the one she and Brittany had sat in and held hands under a napkin. The one where Santana had asked her if they were together. The one where Brittany had said yes.

The truth was that close to them. Two booths down.

She dragged her eyes up and looked once again into Mercedes gaze.

"The digs don't just get to you coz they're rude," Mercedes said softly. "They get to you because they're messing with your girl."

Santana blinked. Every nerve in her body was twisted and screaming at her to run. Her tongue was curled around a smart retort. Her fists were ready to fight their way out. But then Mercedes did something that Santana would never have expected. She reached across the table and put one of her hands on top of Santana's. She squeezed. Santana flinched at the contact, but Mercedes eyes were boring into her own, holding her there.

"It's okay. I know. And I've just told you I know and we're both still here. The world hasn't stopped spinning."

Santana's eyes filled with tears and her face screwed up. She reached for a napkin and dabbed her cheeks, Mercedes hand on her own feeling like an anchor now. An anchor into a safe harbour. She took a shaky, laughing breath and shook her head.

"Ah. Okay. Okay, okay." Another breath, then- "The world may not have stopped spinning, but our garlic bread is getting cold."

Mercedes grinned that fifteen foot smile of hers and gave Santana's hand a final squeeze before she drew it away and picked up a piece of garlic bread.

"Now, tell me _all _the West Side Story goss," She took a large bite of the bread. "How terrible is Rachel?"

Santana rolled her eyes, feeling lighter and happier than she could remember. "Oh, she's _terrible._"

**Note:**

**I've had this theory ever since seeing the look Mercedes gave Santana during the Troubletones Adele performance in Ep 6 (you know the one when it goes all silent) that Mercedes actually played a large role in supporting Santana in coming out. So be prepared for some more Mercedes/Santana (I don't know their ship name?) in upcoming chapters! **

**Hope you enjoyed it and their conversation was authentic as possible for you guys! **


	11. Be Nice

**Hello! **

**Whew, sorry this has been a long time coming. It has been done for a few days but haven't had the internet to upload it. But to make up for that this is the longest chapter yet :)**

**So this is the first chapter dealing with episode 6-Mash-off. Like the last chapter I'm going to put a note at the end explaining some stuff but I really hope you like it. I deal with the more serious stuff in the next chapter.**

**I just want to tell all you guys that I am so grateful for the influx of reviews for the last chapter. I'm so glad that you guys liked my interpretation of Sancedes :P. It means a lot to me that I have people enjoying what I write and sharing that with me. It is one of the greatest things about writing and I never get sick of anyones opinion, new ideas or suggestions so please keep them coming. **

**Anyway, here you go! :)**

**Ch 11: Be Nice**

Santana could never understand how Mr Pierce got his hedges looking so freakishly perfect. He wasn't one of those weird guys that watched them grow with binoculars from his front window or anything. He just really liked his hedges.

He'd clipped them in neat squares, with diamond points on each corner and they were always uniformly straight. Whenever Santana was waiting in her car to pick Brittany up she'd become inexplicably enthralled by them.

She was so preoccupied with those freaking hedges that she jumped a foot when Brittany opened the passenger door and slid onto the seat.

"Oh Jesus you scared me!"

"Sorry! I wasn't even trying that time. Do I open car doors like a serial killer?"

"Something like that," Santana shook her head and started the car.

"Hey."

Santana, about to put the car in gear, looked up at Brittany. She was pouting.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Huh?" Santana frowned. Brittany drew a finger across her still pouted lips.

"Oh!" Santana shot a quick look back at the hedges, wondering if Britt's dad was sneaky enough to hide security cameras in those diamonds. But Brittany leant over and pressed herself against Santana, using her hands on the back of Santana's neck to tug her face closer and then her lips were softly coaxing Santana's mouth open. She tasted like candy and toothpaste.

All of a sudden Santana wasn't sure if she'd even care if Britt's whole family saw them, so long as she could keep the taste of Brittany on her tongue.

Then a car drove past and tooted its horn and Santana sprang away from Brittany like she'd been tasered. Britt leant back in her seat, looking slightly out of breath. She wiped her mouth and then turned to look at the car that had just driven past.

"It's no one from my family but it could be the FBI so we better take the long way to school."

As Santana put the car in gear and accelerated away from the curb Brittany slung one hand across one of Santana's thighs and settled back in her seat, pulling out a box of Dots from her bag and plopping several in her mouth.

"Ohh, did you hear that Blaine and Kurt did it after the closing night of the musical?" She asked, chewing.

Santana nodded. "Yeah, Mercedes told me. Rachel and Finn did it too."

Brittany's face screwed up. "That doesn't turn me on anywhere near as much as Blaine and Kurt doing it does."

Santana laughed, shaking her head. "Finn and Rachel having sex would be like a buffalo trying to mount a meerkat."

Brittany was digging around in the box for more Dots. "Uhuh. Timon and Pumba sex."

"Urgh okay. Let's get away from that topic. Do you have any ideas for our mash-up?"

Brittany chewed thoughtfully. "Mmm, well Sugar text me last night suggesting we do Stars Are Blind and Sexy Bitch and I was all for it until she called dibs on doing Akon's part. So now I don't know. What about you?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I want to beat the others. I mean, I'd prefer to do it physically, but singing won't get me expelled so I'll just settle for that. Finn needs to get what's coming to him and I plan to make sure we kick his ass so badly that it bleeds when he…"

"San," Brittany interrupted, pointing up head. The lights had phased red and Santana had to slam on her brakes to stop them running through the intersection.

"Shit, sorry sorry. I just get so pissed when I think about him and Potato Sack. I can't believe they are deemed evolved enough to function in our society."

"They aren't that bad."

Santana snapped her head around. "While _you_ may of forgotten the shit they were saying to you at the fitting last week, I have it burned pretty freaking brightly in my mind."

"It wasn't really them though. They were just laughing. It was the football guys."

Santana was rapidly losing her cool. As the lights went green she revved her car through, jostling them in their seats.

"Anything less than sticking up for you is what I consider assholery at its finest. Buloo the bear is always creaming his pants over being all buddy-buddy and sticking by glee club members, maybe he should take his own advice."

Brittany squeezed Santana's thigh. "But look at what came out of it," she said softly. "Sure I got laughed at and confused but like...the difference between washing machines and dishwashers confuses me so it's not that big of a deal. But you, Santana, it made you brave enough to tell Mercedes."

"Mercedes already knew." Santana pointed out cooly.

"Yeah, but you didn't deny it. You faced it and that's why I don't care about what those guys said."

Santana fell silent, her eyes on the road. She didn't want to have a deep and meaningful when they were only two minutes away from school. She'd had so many emotional break downs at that place in the last few weeks she was surprised she hadn't been called up to Miss Pillsbury's office and given a "Do You Hoard Your Mother's Sleeping Pills?" pamphlet. She'd made a resolution to herself that it would stop and that she'd go back to her usual steely self.

Santana pulled the car into the school parking lot, slotting it in between a silver pickup and a black, shining Audi.

Surprised to see such a flash car, she peered through her side window into the Audi and saw Sugar in the driver's seat, applying lipstick in the rear vision mirror. She caught Santana looking and waved, clipping the lid on her lipstick and opening her car door. Rolling her eyes, Santana grabbed her bag from the back seat and got out too. Mercedes had wandered over from her car too, looking the Audi up and down.

"Hey my sexual kittens," Sugar twinkled her bedazzled nails at them.

"Hey Sugar," Mercedes sounded resigned to the impending encounter.

"Do we have a Troubletones practise today? Oh, no thanks Beebee," Sugar shook her head at the Dots box Britt was holding out to her. "Those things give you kidney stones."

Brittany's eyes widened in shock and she peered disconcertedly into the box. Santana moved to stand beside her, brushing a hand down her back.

"They don't Britt, I promise." For good measure she reached in and took a red one, popping it in her mouth. Brittany nervously watched her chew but brightened when Santana swallowed and grinned at her, appearing unharmed.

"We don't have practise today no," Mercedes was saying. "Miss Corcoran is substituting so she doesn't have time."

"She's teaching our geography class!" Britt turned excitedly to Santana, threading her arm around her back and leaning against her shoulder. "Maybe she can show us a map of where she keeps the rest of her demon spawn." Santana stiffened at the contact, sliding her eyes wearily over Sugar and Mercedes. Mercedes didn't look phased and Sugar was grinning at them.

"You guys are like, nothing like what I thought lesbian couples were like. You guys are adorbs!" Santana felt Brittany grinning against her shoulder but she wheeled to glare at Mercedes.

"You did not."

Mercedes grimaced and shrugged. "Sorry Santana. She called me last night and started singing her mash-up ideas and I had to change the subject."

Santana bristled. "Oh and you couldn't think of _anything _else worth talking about?"

"You guys are like...Pretty much the only thing we discuss." Sugar said, examining her cuticles. "It's no big deal. I just thought you'd both have like...thumb rings and lots of bracelets and one of you would go all manly and wear fake chest hair."

Santana stared back and forth between her and Mercedes, horror rising in her throat. Brittany disentangled herself and took a step away.

"You'd look hot if you did that," she announced, looking Santana up and down.

Santana blinked, dumbfounded.

Mercedes was the first to start giggling and then Brittany began to chuckle. Sugar was next, covering her hand and simpering like a chihuahua. Santana fought the rise of laughter in her own chest as best she could, but as Mercedes doubled over, leaning on the boot of the Audi, Santana began to laugh too. Then Sugar went and snorted and set them into fresh hysterics until Brittany's face was bright red, Santana was gasping and Mercedes had tears streaming down her cheeks.

/

After second period English Santana decided to stay behind in class and wait with Puck while he tried to convince their teacher to accept his three week late essay.

"Eh, it was worth a try," Puck said as they obeyed Mr Holt's frustrated banishment. "Why are you being so supportive Lopez? Don't tell me you want sexual favors."

Santana rolled her eyes. "No you douche. I actually have a bone to pick with you." She spun on her heel into his face, making him draw back, alarmed.

"Why the hell were you and the football guys being such assholes to Britt last week at the fitting? Sorry I'm only just getting around to destroying you about it but I've been trying work myself up to handling your stench long enough to have this conversation. So. Explanation."

Puck was frowning down at her.

"W-what are you on Santana? I wasn't even at Artie's last week. I have other stuff to deal with."

Santana scowled at him and he took a step back, raising his hands.

"You know that if I'd have been there I wouldn't have let that shit go down. Where was Finn? He's usually pretty onto it when it comes to sticking up for people."

"Finn was laughing along with the rest of them."

Puck's frown deepened into a scowl.

"No effing way? Where the hell does Rachel keep his balls these days?"

"Same place Shelby keeps yours? Hey!" Santana struck upon an idea. "Seeing as you'll be like…Finn's Step-Dad-in-law or something maybe you could give him the hard word."

"Huh. I _wish._" Puck looked glum.

"Still making you beg for treats is she?"

"We haven't done anything since that one kiss. But I told her in first period that I like wanted to take things to the next level."

Santana raised her eyebrows and nudged him suggestively. "Second base huh?"

Puck huffed a sigh. "I wanna be serious with her. Like I _really _like her. I want to try and be a proper family."

"A family?" Santana said the words like she'd forgotten what they'd meant. Surely out of Puck's lips they didn't signify the usual definition.

"Weird I know but," He shrugged. "Guess that's just what love does."

"So they say," Santana agreed faintly. She was trying to remember exactly how they'd both moved so far from where they once had been.

Noah Puckerman had been the boy that did gross stuff like pick his nose and chase you with it still on his finger. He was the boy that got in trouble for laying under the monkey bars beneath the girls wearing skirts. He was the boy that none of the girls wanted to hold hands with.

That was until 10th grade when suddenly his unwashed boy smell became tinged with a musky aftershave, and his arms ballooned like pumped tires.

Santana, like every other girl in McKinley, had pricked up her ears at the sound of his suddenly shattered voice box.

She'd calculated her movements towards him like a chess player. A sideways glance in class one day. Her laughter slightly raised at one of his jokes. Her number given casually, like a passing sweep of her hand down his back.

And then they were at the same party, and he was pouring her vodka and orange and she was so drunk she slipped on the kitchen tiles and went down sharply and his hands were curled under her armpits, strong and sure. They lifted her not back to her feet but up, up until her butt connected gently with the counter-top. And then his hands were down around her waist, anchoring her against him.

He didn't kiss like the other boys who acted like they were only interested in tasting her tonsils. Puck kissed her like her actually cared that she'd picked her Chanel lip gloss to wear that night. He kissed her like he wanted to pick apart the tastes on her tongue with his own.

When he drew away, a smile, faded like an old photograph, drifted across his face.

He called her the next day and took her to Breadstix. And the whole night he followed on the tail of every smart quip she made with his own- until he made her laugh so hard she snorted coke across the table and he'd laughed till he had tears in his eyes.

Then, in the back seat of his truck, with the mood lighting of a streetlamp, he kissed her like he had the night before, and his hands were less like anchors and more like sails. And the wind picked up and they were rocking far too fast but she didn't tell him to stop.

And then she was walking crookedly to Brittany's front door where she asked him to drop her off and Brittany was waiting at the threshold wearing her fluffy green monster paw slippers. And they went up to her bedroom and cuddled and Santana whispered to Brittany every detail, feeling an incomprehensible relief in the fact that she'd _lost it_ before Brittany.

And then, late in the night, when the sky had been oddly tinted by the day somewhere else in the world, Santana pressed her face into Brittany's back and cried quietly so that she would not wake her up.

"You want me to rough him up now?" Puck was nodding over her shoulder. Santana glanced backwards to see Finn's head sticking above the crowd of students. Beside him trailed his little Irish weed. Santana narrowed her gaze.

"No, no. I got this."

She left Puck leaning against the lockers and trained her eyes on Finn and Rory, heading towards them mulling insults on her tongue. They were her favourite taste.

/

"Remind me again how you got us into this mess?" Mercedes approached Santana, clutching a red ball and puffing. Sugar came up beside her, holding another ball gingerly by her fingertips.

"I thought there was no Troubletones practise today," she grumbled.

"I've already told you both we're at _dodge ball _practise. And Mercedes, Finn _challenged _us. And there is no way in hell I'm going to give up the opportunity to see his man-boobs smack him in the face when he runs."

Smoothly, Santana tapped the ball from between Sugars fingers and balanced it easily on her palm. There was a squeak on the lino of the gym as Brittany and the other Cheerios members they'd recruited twirled passed, practicing their acrobatic flip and throws. Santana smirked proudly at them.

"Walk with me," she said to Mercedes and Sugar, turning on her heel and approaching the bin where the red dodge balls were kept. "When I was a kid my tío Terry made up a game for us cousins. See, we had a _big _family and limited hot water so sometimes we'd have to double up when all the family stayed at his place. And he had this massive grapefruit tree in his back yard so one day he decided that he'd pick a bunch of the most rotten ones and make us kids stand in a line while he threw them at us. Whoever was the messiest by the time he'd run out would have to take a shower with my bisabuela. And let me tell you right now, my bisabuela was a large lady." Santana picked up another ball from the crate and swung around.

Quick as lightening, she flexed her arm and shot it at Mercedes. It smacked into her face with a dull thud, jiggling her features around. Sugar snorted but it abruptly turned into a shriek as the second ball connected with her own face.

"So," Santana continued, ignoring their looks of resentment, "sheer terror has made me the best dodge ball player in this school. And while I understand that you will never measure up to me I still expect you to be able to beat lumberjack Jim and his rag-tag band of inbreeds."

"B-but dodge ball is so…" Sugar wiggled the bridge of her nose gingerly where the ball had connected. "It's so hard core. I mean I know you're a lesbian so you like smashing balls but…"

"Look Malibu Barbie," Santana hurriedly cut across her. "Just be grateful that dodge ball is all we're doing. Finn's fist suggestion was for us all to come down to his barn for some potato moonshine and a rootn' tootn' game of Spin the Cousin."

Brittany came jogging over, flushed and out of breath. Santana trailed her eyes over her rapidly moving chest, smiling just a little.

"The New Directions are here," she panted, nodding over her shoulder. Santana frowned as she caught sight of Rachel, Finn and the rest of her old glee club file into the far end of the gym and begin stretching. Blaine called Brittany's name and waved. Santana tugged Britt's hand back before she could reciprocate.

"Come on, let's huddle and talk tactics!" She called to her team, leading them away from the New Directions.

When their heads were all bent down around hers she cleared her throat.

"Everyone good with what we're doing?"

The Cheerios and Brittany nodded their heads in unison. Sugar and Mercedes were the only ones still looking hesitant. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Sugar. I can guarantee that every one of those losers behind us has called you an Asperger's freak at least once this week," She lied. "You should want to kick their asses as much as I do. And Cedes…" She turned her eyes to the girl she now held so much respect for. "There is a reason you're standing on _this_ side of the gym. You've been kicked around and ignored and left wither in Berry's shadow for two years now. I know you're sick of it and I know that there is no going back for you. So please, please help me go all Rosa Parks on their asses."

Slowly, Mercedes nodded. "Let's do this" She said. Santana smirked, already feeling the adrenalin sparking in her muscles.

"Yes, lets."

/

It was the evening of the day after the dodge ball match and Santana still was gleaning pleasure from Finn's expression when the ball she'd hurled whacked him straight in the face.

She had to bask quietly to herself though, because she'd promised Brittany and the other Troubletones that she'd be nicer to them from now on and concentrate on the upcoming Adele number for the Mash-off. Still, as she sat on the floor beside Brittany's bed watching Mercedes, Britt and Sugar bickering over what Adele songs they liked the most, Santana let a small smile of satisfaction creep across her cheeks.

She loved winning. And seeing Rory cowering on the ground blubbering like he was Finn's whale calf was really the icing on the cake.

Santana was startled out of her memory as Brittany bounced down on and flopped on the carpet beside her. She threaded her hands between Santana's and snuggled against her, edging her nose into the crook of Santana's neck.

Despite the fact that they had nothing to hide around Sugar and Mercedes, Santana stiffened automatically. When she saw the Mercedes and Sugar hadn't even batted an eyelash in their direction, too caught up in arguing about their own vocal likeness to Adele, Santana let herself loosen, curving closer to Brittany. She turned and kissed the top of Brittany's head, taking in the milk and honey scent of her shampoo.

"I think you sound most like Adele," She mumbled against the collar of Santana's cheerio jacket. Santana's reply was interrupted by Mercedes raised voice.

"Well it's going to be a Santana-Mercedes duet anyway," Mercedes snapped at Sugar. "So it's really no concern of yours _what_ songs we sing."

Sugar opened her mouth to object, looking highly affronted, but Brittany untangled herself from Santana and stood up, rearranging her Cheerios skirt which had ridden up. She hopped over to the bed and tugged Sugar up by the hand.

"Sugar is my dancing buddy though right? Those two sing," She nodded at Santana and Mercedes, "and we dance around them making them sound better. You'll help me with the choreography right?"

Sugar looked thoroughly appeased and nodded enthusiastically. "Holy shit _yes. _Did you know, I once auditioned to be Beyoncé's backup dancer but they said I upstaged her and she went all Sasha Fierce when she saw my audition tape." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "I'm the hottest bitch out to be honest. I mean you're good but…" She gestured up and down her own body. "Not _this _good."

Santana rolled her eyes and pushed up off the floor.

"The premixed Rum 'n' coke I brought should be chilled by now. Imma go get it so that all this," she gestured in a circle around at the others, "is easier to deal with."

"I put it in the fridge by the garage so my parents wouldn't drink it when they come home San!" Britt called to her as Santana walked down the hall.

Santana went via the kitchen to grab cups and then to the garage. She picked her way past some stray boxes to the spare fridge and grabbed the large coke bottle from one of the shelves inside the door.

It was then that she heard an engine pull into the dive way. When it didn't pull into the garage, Santana tiptoed closer and peaked around the edge of the open garage door.

"Hey Finn! I'm just getting my costume finished and then we can head to practice. Come in!" Santana almost lost her grip on the coke and cups as Rory's voice sounded from Britt's front door right on the other side of where she was standing.

"Alright, cool." She watched Finn get out of his car and lope across the driveway towards the door and disappear inside.

Her curiosity was twigged. If she could somehow find out what songs the New Directions were going to butcher she could help the Troubletones chances at winning. She crept back to the garage side door and into the downstairs hallway, following the sounds of their voices as they receded down to Rory's room at the end. She set the glasses and coke on the bottom of the stairs and snuck along the hall, expertly skipping every floor board that she remembered creaked.

Rory had left his bedroom door open and Santana crouched beside it, not daring to look inside but straining her ears to pick up every word.

"Wow this is awesome Rory, it's exactly like the others we've got back at mine. Nice work buddy."

"Yeah, thanks. I tried to ask Brittany for help yesterday but she said she was scared of sewing machines so I asked Mrs Pierce instead."

"Three guesses why Brittany said that."

"Yeah, she's definitely been avoiding me lately. That mean girl who made my nose bleed at dodge ball, she's always with her an' I know she doesn't like me. They're all upstairs now in Britt's room, didn't say a word to me."

"Mmm, I wouldn't take it personally. That's Santana's default setting." Finn replied. "I don't get why Brittany even has the time of day for her. She was so much better with Artie. These days it seems like she's...I don't know. Constantly holding her tongue and doing what Santana says."

"Aren't they like...A couple or somethin'?" Rory asked.

There was a pause. Santana pressed closer to the door.

"Mmmm….I think that Santana wants them to be but I don't see Britt being as serious about it. She pretty much just goes where the tide pulls her."

Rory's voice was wistful. "I wish it would pull her to me."

"Well, you know...We probably could get that to happen if we tried hard enough. And, hey," Finn's voice rose in excitement, "if you and Britt got together maybe she'd come back to the New Directions. I know Rachel and Tina get so worried about her, they'd be so on board with trying to get her back. "

Santana was ridged against the wall- her body and muscles marble smooth and turned to stone by anger. The blood surging in her ear drums meant she nearly missed what came next.

"I'd really like that Finn. She's so smokn'."

"Well Buddy you'll have your chance when you get your solo in our mash-up. I'm sure Britt's keen, we just need to show her that you have some attitude too."

"Well then we better get to practice and start thinkn' up some dance moves that'll woo her."

Finn laughed. "Yeah, are you all done here?"

"Yup. Just gotta grab my shoes…" There was a bang as Rory clattered open his wardrobe door.

Santana knew she had seconds to decide what she was going to do. She was fairly certain that she could take both of them, but probably not at the same time. If she burst in now she'd have the element of surprise, but that never lasted long. She looked around the empty hall way, contemplating potential weapons.

Through the haze of her anger she heard dull movement upstairs, the opening of a door, the rhythmic thud of footsteps.

Someone was coming to look for her. Silently, Santana slipped away from the door and picked her way back down the hall towards the bottom of the stairs.

She bent to pick up the coke and cups and realised her hands were shaking. Fumbling, she jumbled them all into her arms and started up the stairs just as Brittany appeared at the top of them.

"There you are!" She looked relieved. "I thought the goul who lives in the garage rafters had gotten you." She bounded down the stairs towards Santana.

It felt odd to twist her facial muscles into a smile, but Santana did it anyway. Brittany reached the step above her and relieved her of some of the glasses.

"Mercedes has got two songs she thinks go well together. She wants to sing one and you sing the other kind of. She keeps talking about all these letters of the alphabet that I'd never heard of before. Like...Did you know that C has a middle? And that F's could go below it? Is that some kind of adult alphabet? "

"She's meaning musical notes B," Santana murmured, feeling like her cheeks were stuffed with cotton wool. She couldn't tell Britt what she'd overheard because these things never upset her as much as they did Santana. And then Santana would get angry at Britt for not taking it seriously and then Britt would look at her with her cheeks red and her eyes smarting with tears and then Santana would have confirmation of what she feared the most was true- that she was bad for Brittany, like Finn had said.

That Brittany _was_ unhappy but just too scared to say anything.

Santana's head and stomach were churning with truths and doubts and fears.

They were going to try and take Brittany from her. They'd talked so casually about it, knocking aside all the triumphs Santana had carefully stacked up against her and Brittany like they were nothing. How easy _would _it be?

The promise she'd made at Troubletones practise the day before to be nice to Finn seemed so petty and insignificant now, backlit by the things she'd just heard.

They arrived back at Brittany's room and Santana somehow made it through the rest of the evening on auto-pilot. If Brittany noticed her vacancy she didn't say anything. But when Mercedes and Sugar offered to take all the used cups and plates from their snack down to the kitchen, Brittany sidled up to Santana and tugged the lapels of her jacket.

"You like the number so far?"

"Uhuh, yeah. It's going to be great."

"Do you want to stay tonight?"

Brittany's closeness was overwhelming, her scent was everywhere, the soft skin on her neck just inches away. Santana could say yes and get lost in Brittany. She could say yes and try to drown out everything she'd heard earlier. She could try to fill her head with Brittany's voice, Brittany's quickened breathing, Brittany's moaning.

Santana could spend the night and try to chase away the doubts.

But they'd come for her. They'd fixed themselves on the scent of her fear. They'd echo in the back of her head when Brittany was curled against her, far away in sleep. They'd taint the taste of Brittany's skin. They'd fill their kisses with "what ifs".

Santana leant her head against Brittany's and shook it.

"Mom wants me home, sorry Britt Britt." Her voice wasn't her own.

"Oh. Okay. Are you sad?" Brittany peered into Santana's face. Santana dropped her eyes and squirmed away from Brittany, walking over to collect her stuff together.

"Of course I'm not sad silly. Just really freaking tired."

Brittany followed her across the room, her hands squeezed together up against her chest.

"Don't drive home. Stay here, please?"

Santana hesitated, biting her lip. She swept her eyes across the room she'd seen a million times. On Brittany's bed Lord Tubbington lay stretched out on Brittany's side amidst the crinkled blankets- immense and tabby and purring as loud as a bulldozer. His paws twitched slightly as he dreamt.

From somewhere a smile came to her face as she remembered all the nights she'd slept over at Brittany's- back when they just had sex and pretended they had no feelings. Some nights that cat would jump up and hog a whole side of the bed to himself. He'd push his paws into Brittany, kneading her with his claws until she would shift sleepily away from him and roll over to Santana's side.

On those nights, Santana had laid awake with Brittany draped across her and thanked god for that obese cat.

Santana zipped up her school bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Sorry Britt," she mumbled. "Not tonight."

/

Santana got no sleep that night. And she rose to the next day like a zombie, her throat dry and her eyes wide and strained by the lack of rest. In the shower she turned the hot water up and let it surge through her like a drum beat.

When she stepped out she swiped her hand down the misted mirror, clearing a jagged path so she could see her face. Concluding that covering the mess she saw blinking back at her with foundation and eyeliner would be about as effective as a band-aid for a bomb crater, she left the bathroom and went back to her bedroom.

Brittany was sitting on her bed.  
>"Your Mom let me in on her way to work," she shrugged at the surprise on Santana's face.<br>"Oh, okay. Well," Santana hesitated, clutching her towel around herself. "I have to get ready but there's breakfast stuff still on the counter if you want something?"  
>"Lord T and I shared a bagel." Brittany wiggled further back onto Santana's pillows and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. "I'll just stay here."<p>

"So I'm taking you to school I guess?"

Brittany's face faltered. "If that's okay?"

"Uhuh."

Santana turned away from her and got dressed.

When she was done she made her way over to her dresser and dropped down into her chair, looking hopelessly in her mirror at the botches and lack-of-sleep bruises under her eyes. Sighing, she reached for her foundation brush.

"The presidential debates tomorrow," Brittany said from the bed.

Santana felt a pang of guilt. She'd promised Brittany days ago that they would work on her speech together but it had completely slipped her mind. She grimaced and looked over at her bed.

"Sorry B, I know we were supposed to get it together. I'll come over tonight and we'll sort something out okay? But I wouldn't worry because you've got this in the bag already. The soul destroying lameness of the other threes speeches will actually work in your favour, I promise."

She could see Brittany's face was clouded.

"Everyone thinks I'm all confident and hot and stuff and I am when it comes to like, saying other people's words like in songs and stuff but I don't like saying serious words in front of a lot of people."

Brittany's voice cracked, and Santana could see her throat working to restrain the tears.

Santana had tried to stay away. After what she'd heard the night before it was like her eyes had been opened to everything that she hadn't wanted to see.

She loved too hard, she cared too much and Brittany was just Brittany, like Finn said. She went with the tide.

Santana could feel the impending avalanche of events- Finn and Rory's plan hovered just on the horizon, its gathering momentum rumbling like thunder in Santana's ears.

Yet, like the fool she was, she got off her chair and slid onto the bed, caving her arms around Brittany, squeezing their bodies together.

"It'll be perfect, just like you Britt."

/

They weren't late to school, which surprised Santana. And Britt somehow managed to manipulate the makeup well enough so Santana looked half-way presentable. They walked through the double doors swinging their hands linked by their pinkies.

Santana felt a little easier with Britt beside her, like her lungs were less full of lead.

Up ahead of them, Rory and Finn were walking, talking seriously. They were at the other end of the corridor.

Suddenly Santana could barely see straight. Anger almost winded her. She unlinked her and Britt's pinkies and lengthened her stride towards them.

"I'll meet you in class!" She called over her shoulder.

"San!"

Reluctantly Santana looked back.

Brittany was hugging her folder to her chest, worry creasing her forehead.

"Don't be mean to Finn and Rory. Remember you promised?"

Santana swung back around to glance at Rory and Finn's progress. They were one bay of lockers away.

She turned back to Brittany and looked flatly into her face.

"I won't Britt," she lied. "I promise."

**Rambling Note of Explanation That You Can Feel Free to Ignore if You Want:**

**First off, the Rory-Finn plan to get Brittany back. I know this one is a little out of the blue, but I needed a reason for why Santana would promise Britt and the TTs that she'd be nice to Finn and then in the next scene be the biggest bitch she's ever been to them. I believed something had to of happened between those two scenes to make her change her mind because I don't think she'd go against Brittany lightly. **

**Secondly, the Santana becoming unsure about how Brittany feels about her. Santana is a person who I believe finds it very hard to love because she finds it very hard to trust. So the fact that Brittany may hurt her is at the back of her mind since she refused to break up with Artie. I put that in there because it connects to things I'm going to explore in the next chapter and it also echoes what Finn says when he outs Santana. **

**I want to make it clear that I totally thing Britt loves her back and Santana's fears are unfounded yet understandable. **

**Woo okay sorry for the mini novel of explanation I just felt like I needed to! **


	12. Someone Like You

**Hello!**

**First things first- I've discovered the beauty of the 'Insert Horizontal Line' button. So here's to more sophisticated paragraphing!**

**So this is chapter #2 dealing with the Mash-off episode. There will be three chapters centred around it.**

**I've been seeing expressed in the reviews that you guys can't wait to see Santana get Finn back and I totally agree but I felt like if I tried to write a confrontation scene it may take away from the meaning of the actual ones in the show which I'm building these chapters around. But believe me when I tell you I would love to have Santana go full Lima Heights on his ass. **

**And I so feel the pain that some of you expressed in Santana doubting that Britt loves her back. I just tried to imagine all the mess of emotions that Santana must have been feeling and I think that is something that eats away at her a lot seeing as this is the first time she's really trusted someone.**

**Oh and, between the end of the last chapter and the start of this one, the 'outing' took place...Just to orientate you. **

**Once again, reviews are freaking awesome and you guys are awesome and woo! So thank you very, very much for your time. **

**Please excuse any mistakes in this chapter- I'm uber tired and wanted to get this up a.s.a.p so haven't gone over it as fully as I would have liked. **

**Also. Also also. If anyone is remotely interested in seeing my face/exploring the extent of my obsession with Brittana then feel free to check out my tumblr (the link is now on my profile)**

**Aannnd. Yeah, that's it. I hope you enjoy this one! **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 12: Someone Like You<strong>

_Some people say that your life is one big teaching mechanism- that there are things to be taken away from what happens to you so that your soul can become closer to being complete. _

_That, once you've learnt all your lessons, you go on to a better place._

Personally, Santana thought these people were full of shit.

_Because, what happens when one moment undoes a whole life's worth lessons? How can anyone explain away that one moment which picks you up and tosses you off your tracks like a matchbox car?_

_What the hell does it say about your learning process when one moment teaches you that everything you thought you knew was wrong_?

In one moment, Santana learnt that stares had a tangible weight. She learnt that her stomach swooped lower on the curve of words than any sudden dip in the road. She learnt that falling on your knees didn't just happen physically.

The raised pitch of Finn's words hit her right in the middle of her back. Had they been bullets, they would have gone through her heart, punctured her lungs and broken her ribs.

Her spine curved at their impact, her shoulders hunched in around her.

She would never have picked Finn as a marksman of any skill. But she couldn't have lined the shot up better herself.

Santana learnt that what hurt most wasn't the moment itself but what followed after- when Finn and Rory had left her standing in the hall way, shell shocked and blinking in the beams of forty or so stares. When she tried to make her legs work but found they had been swallowed by that mid-pins and needles nothingness and she stumbled into the lockers nearby with a thundering clang.

Santana used every ounce of grace she could scrape together to get her down the hall way and out into the car park.

Sudden impulse made her veer away from where her car was and head blindly for the bleachers. With everyone going to their home room classes the field and track were deserted, and the bleaches stood with their benches wide, white and empty.

Santana reached the first stair up to the rows and bent to the dirt before it, retching until she was sick.

Leaving the mess, she wiped her mouth with a shaking hand and started up the stairs until she reached the very top corner.

She sat down and retched again, but wasn't sick.

The screen of her phone looked oddly distorted as she tried to type a message. It came out all wrong so she pressed the call button instead. It rang and rang and rang until-

"Santana? I was in homeroom. Did you pocket dial?"

Santana opened her mouth to speak but accidentally began to cry instead.

"Santana….?"

Santana sobbed noisily into the speaker, her nose running, her body back and forth against the wire meshing she leant against.

"What's wrong? Where are you?"

Santana held back her sobs with all her might and said- "Bleachers."

* * *

><p>Mercedes took the bleacher stairs two at a time to reach Santana at the top. She sat down, puffing slightly, her eyes searching Santana's face.<p>

"What the hell happened?" She asked anxiously.

Santana took a shaky breath, opening her mouth to speak but the tears took over once again.

Mercedes put a hand on Santana's back and started rubbing slow circles. Gradually, like a tide, Santana's tears receded and her voice ebbed back in.

"I broke my promise." She said dully.

Mercedes looked at her like she'd just spoken gibberish. "Promise...promise...What promise?"

"To you guys. About laying off Finn."

Mercedes drew back slightly, frowning. "So? Girl, who cares! It was kind of inevitable that you would break it. There's no need to…"

"No, no no." Santana was shaking her heads, her voice thickening with fresh tears. "That's not...That's not why I'm upset. Finn...he…"

_Hey Santana, why don't you just come out of the closet? _

_You know, I think I know why you're so good at tearing everybody else down. _

_It's because you're constantly tearing yourself down because you can't admit to everybody that you're in love with Brittany and she might not love you back. _

_That must hurt not being able to admit to everyone how you really feel. _

_You know what I think you are? A coward._

Mercedes was staring at Santana, wide eyed. Santana dropped her head in her hands, exhausted from having to relive it. She could barely believe that it had actually happened. Sharing it with one more person just made it that much more concrete. Mercedes began again with the circles on Santana's back.

"Are you going to go to Principal Figgins about it?"

Santana shook her head in her hands.

"I don't want to make it any bigger deal than it is."

"Santana, what he did is _harassment._ It's the sort of bullying Karofsky got expelled for."

Santana shook her head again.

"He's not going to get away with it. But I'm not going to Figgins about it."

There was a long pause and Santana tried to concentrate souly on the soothing heat of her palms against her forehead.

Far off on the other side of the field, the bell for first period rang inside the school. Both girls ignored it.

"Are you going to tell Brittany?" There was hesitance in Mercedes voice. Santana guessed she was scared to pick apart the reasons Santana had called her instead of Brittany.

She shook her head for a third time, still not looking up.

"It'll be too much for her," she said dully. "I don't want her to worry."

_She might not love you back._

"Santana," Mercedes dead panned. Santana huffed a sigh and looked up, squinting slightly in the light.

"She's your _girlfriend_," Mercedes pointed out, with the air of a person teaching a two year old what a door was. "Look Santana, I know you're used to relationships that are all bang and...well just bang. But you know that Brittany means more to you than that. And I know for a fact that Finn doesn't know what he's on about because Brittany loves you. And I mean yeah, maybe that's not as comforting when you take into account that she also loves Sugar's singing, but you...girl... you've gotta have seen the way she looks at you. Finn didn't need to point _that_ out to the whole corridor because she can't help but make it pretty obvious ."

She did not allow Mercedes words to sink in. She stayed silent, her eyes drifting out across the road where cars swished past infrequently. Her shock was receding and her calculating kicked in.

Yes, Finn had racked a hand down all of her buttons at once. Yes, he had proved that he could beat Santana at her own game. But there were certain ways that Santana could make this mess manageable. For one thing, she still had the rumour that Rachel was secretly a man tucked into her repertoire and god knows that it would seem far more plausible to the student body than what they had heard from Finn about Santana.

She took a shaky breath. And yes, Finn may have been right about her being a coward. But she knew where she could get some fire-hot courage.

With a plan moulding in her head, Santana carefully wiped the corners of her eyes. She drew her finger away and saw it smudged black. Cursing, she turned to Mercedes.

"How bad?" She asked, indicating her eyes.

"Nothing a bit of tissue paper and a recoat can't fix," Mercedes said dismissively. "But make-up isn't exactly the most pressing issue to deal with here is it?"

"Nope." Santana stood up and adjusted her Cheerios skirt. "You and I are going to take a drive to my cousins house."

When Mercedes opened her mouth to protest, Santana held up a hand.

"Don't want to hear it. We'll be back in time for second period so don't shit your pants just quite yet."

"I really should go to first period too…" Mercedes was longingly look back across the grounds. Santana whirled around and looked down at her.

"Look," She tried to keep the pained expression away from her face. "I'm not good with thank you or anything. In fact, I'm _pretty _sure that I'm actually allergic to gratitude. But…" She turned her eyes to her sneakers. "It was cool of you to miss homeroom for me. And I… I kind of need a break from everything. And you're one of those people who adhere so ridiculously closely to Hollywood stereotypes of their race that being around you helps me to believe that stuff from the movies is actually real. That way I can escape into the Godfather or something."

Mercedes blinked. "I think I'm supposed to be offended at that."

"Probably," Santana shrugged. "But that's not the point. I'm trying to get it through your skull that I need a distraction and that I want it to involve you."

Mercedes looked up at her, began to speak and then stopped and set her lips together. Santana smirked as she watched Mercedes give her a curt nod and stand up, slinging her bag across one shoulder.

"Fine. But just so we're clear...this is me being a better leader than you and supporting a member of my Troubletones."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

They started off down the stairs, Santana still feeling a little weak and shivery from the tears. The field was quiet and deserted still, but in the changing rooms on the other side Santana could hear the squeals and laughter of a class getting changed for p.e. They veered away from the school, wordlessly agreeing to take the back way to the car park so they wouldn't get caught. Half way there though, Mercedes had begun to get anxious.

"If we get caught we can just say that you felt sick and the nurse wasn't in her office so I was just going to drive you home. Or we can just say that we're just grabbing books out of your car. Or...Or we could just tell them what happened with you and Finn and then I'm sure they'd let you go…"

Santana rounded on her, making her skid abruptly to a halt.

"Ohmygod. Please stop. You will not go all panic room on me do you hear? Believe me when I tell you I have far more illegal things in store for us tonight than skipping a period of school."

"Oh hell no." Mercedes was glaring at Santana. "I'm _not _doing anything to Finn's house or his letterbox or his car…" Her eyes suddenly widened. "_Especially_ not his car. Mr Hummel already thinks I'm crazy after I smashed the windows on Kurt's."

"Your finest moment as far as I'm concerned," Santana said, spinning on her heel and continuing to lead Mercedes to the car park.

"Santana I'm serious!" Mercedes called warningly. "I ain't doing anything crazy."

Santana rolled her eyes and turned back around.

"We are going to my cousins. We are getting a buttload of tequila and fake . Then tonight we're going to a swaggy bar and getting our dance on so that I can forget how incredibly _shit _my life just became."

"What about Brittany?"

Mercedes question stilled Santana and suddenly the tears were back like an old habit. She blinked to keep her eyes clear and took a steadying breath.

"Brittany lives in a beautiful world, I've told you that before. She's all 'second star on the right and straight on till morning'. You can't mess with that. And _I_ refuse to be the one that messes with that. Okay? So please, just. Stop." Her voice, to her fury, cracked on the last word.

Mercedes held up her hands, appeasing her.

"Alright, alright. I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to this."

* * *

><p>"I hate this town. I hate it. This is utter bullshit." Santana slurred, kicking bitterly at a stray stone. She missed and stumbled awkwardly.<p>

Once she had righted herself she shivered and curled her arms tighter around her chest, wishing she'd brought a cardigan with her. Her sequinned dress was supposed to be short and sexy- two qualities that worked together in cancelling out any hope of warmth.

Her cousins stupid fake hadn't worked _anywhere. _Not even in the old man bar they'd tried as a last ditch attempt.

The copious amounts of tequila they'd consumed earlier in Santana's bedroom had left her with blurry vision and no measure of the volume in her voice. It had left Mercedes giggly and unhelpful.

While Santana had hoped the alcohol and beat of music and whirling bodies all around her would help dull the ache inside her, the absence of the latter two had simply cause the alcohol amplify it. She had this dark nugget of resentment hardening in her chest, catching in her throat every time she took a breath. She wanted to scream into Finn Hudson's face. She wanted to scream with her fists.

And then, standing in that dark, cold car park outside _Lou's Lounge_, a wave of remembrance rocked through her.

Brittany's speech for the Senior Class President debate tomorrow. Santana's promise to help her.

Brittany.

She whirled in the darkness, panicked into thinking it might hold some way to fix this mess. All she saw was the dim outline of Mercedes stumbling over to a nearby rubbish bin, laughing.

"Imcalling...Shane." She hiccuped over her shoulder at Santana.

"Do you have _my_ phone?" Santana was sifting desperately through her clutch which contained only cards, a compact and lip gloss.

"Huh? Nooo. I have..." Mercedes drew the phone away from her face and peered at it. "...mine! I have mine. Oh...Oh...Hel- Shane? Shaney! Shaney my big chocolate-Huh? Oh am I shouting?" Mercedes giggled."I need you because you have a car and because I think you have big muscles and you need to help us." She dissolved into a fresh round of giggles. Santana rolled her eyes and then began scanning the ground around for her own phone.

When she established it hadn't fallen to the gravel around her she cursed, feeling hot tears clogging her throat. As she stood back upright a cloud of tequila fumes wafted up to her head and she stumbled against a parked car nearby, barely able to hold herself up.

She swung against it, her knees forgetting what they were supposed to do, and then her butt connected with cold, unyielding concrete, her breath leaving her at the impact.

One spinning moment later, Mercedes dropped down beside her with an "ooff."

"Shane is coming to getus because he loves me," She slurred.

Santana felt relief wash over her. Phone or no, she had to make this right.

It wasn't long until the headlights of Shane's car ignited the car park and Mercedes and Santana went stumbling to them, blinking in the brightness. Santana lay herself heavily across the back seat, trying to use long deep breaths to give her thoughts more substance than the whiffs of understanding she was getting now.

"Where am I taking you?" Shane glanced over his shoulder to Santana.

"Santana livesa coupla blocks away from me…" Mercedes garbled, leaning across the centre console and clutching Shanes arm.

"No. No I'm not going there. I need to go…" she looked vaguely out the window, trying to remember the address. Suddenly, her eyes purchased on a bus stop with a painted mural of school children. It was so familiar and she gasped as she realised how perfectly close they actually were. "Take a...take a left here…" She directed, sitting up straighter, adjusting her dress.

* * *

><p>Ever since Santana had known Brittany, her family had left their spare key in the hollow of the trunk of the small tree planted in the garden beside the front door.<p>

Santana had always disliked retrieving it, worried she'd enrage a family of squirrels and get rabies. But it turned out drunk Santana laughed in the face of the angry squirrel family . She plopped heavily to her her knees in the damp bark and stretched her hand into the hollow, feeling about for the jagged edges of the key.

After a moment she drew away in triumph, the key snaked onto her finger by it's rusted key ring.

The inside of the house was dark and warm and smelt like mixed herbs. Santana stole quietly through the foyer, overly conscious of her breathing shattering the sleepy silence.

At the bottom of the stairs she paused and looked down the hall into the blackness to where she knew Rory's room was.

She almost took her foot off the top stair.

_Almost._

But the thought of Brittany's sleeping form somewhere above her- warm and sweet smelling and soft- exerted the pull of a freight train upon her body and she took the stairs as quickly as she could.

Opening Brittany's door was exhilarating and terrifying.

Inside was dark and quiet, perfumed by the smell of Brittany- her shampoo, her sleepy breath. Santana shivered and crossed the room quickly to the dark shape of her bed. When she reached the empty side, she stripped off her dress and kicked off her heels, sliding sideways under the blankets.

The softness of the mattress made Santana feel floaty and warm and excited. She leant over Brittany and called her name. When Brittany didn't stir, Santana edged her hand under the covers to the bare curve of Brittany's hip- exposed by her tank top that had ridden up. The contact of Santana's palm against Brittany's hot skin was like a hit of something- it came with it's own spinning high, it's own way of tangling all Santana's nerves together.

She inhaled against the back of Brittany's head, taking in the smell of her. And the rhythm began to beat in between Santana's legs as her hot breath on Brittany's neck reached Britt somewhere in sleep and she shivered against Santana. Santana inched her hand across Brittany's hip and up to the bottoms of Brittany's breasts- swelling hard against one another because Brittany was curved on her side.

Santana felt Brittany's breathing stagger as she slipped her hand further up and lightly grazed a nipple with her palm.

Then Brittany was inhaling consciousness and turning, dazed at the heat of Santana up against her. Mumbling in disorientation and bewilderment, Brittany turned in her back, blinking into the darkness. Santana took her hand away from Brittany's breast and anchored it around her side.

"Shh Britt, it's just me."

Brittany's muscles relaxed at the sound of her voice, but Santana could still see her squinting up at her blearily in confusion.

"Britt?" Santana slurred.

Brittany blinked at the sound of her name and then wrinkled her nose as Santana's breath washed over her face.

"Santana? Whatareyou...You-you... smell like…"

"I've had a few drinks," Santana admitted, edging closer, her eyes on Brittany's lips. "I came here because I lost my phone and I needed to see you."

She leant down to kiss Brittany and when their lips touched Santana felt herself turn to liquid against her underwear. But after a moment she realised Brittany's kiss was only half enthusiastic and Santana ended it abruptly, peering down into Brittany's face, trying to focus on it long enough to place the expression upon it.

"I called you like a million times and texted you and everything. I even tied a letter to Lord Tubbington and told him to go to you like a carrier pigeon." Brittany's bottom lip was curving out and Santana felt her insides tug from guilt. She dropped her head down onto the pillow beside Brittany's and stared into her face.

"I forgot that we'd planned to write your speech tonight didn't I?"

"Yeah," Brittany whispered back shakily. "You did."

In the summer, the sun trailed freckles along the tops of Brittany's cheeks and the bridge of her nose. But now that it was autumn, and close to winter, they had faded. For some absurd reason this came into Santana's mind as she lay drunkenly taking in Brittany's face. After a beat Santana realised that tears were snaking sideways down Britt's face where those freckles should have been.

Santana insides seized.

"I'msosorry. I'ms so, so sorry," she garbled. Tears were trailing thickly through her voice as she watched Brittany's throat work to control her own. Santana rushed closer, snaking her arms around Brittany, planting her lips over and over again on the wet skin of her face.

She began to babble- the fear and the glide of alcohol through her head letting the words come out uncensored.

"I didn't want to hurt you and I didn't want to mess this all up and I didn't want them to take you from me. So I had a go at them and...and...and then Finn was saying all this stuff in front of everybody about how you didn't love me and how I should come out and that I'm a coward. And I…" She began to cry, her chest constricted harshly in the memory of what she was saying. "I just got so scared and I didn't want you to be scared as well so I didn't tell you and I went and got drunk and now...and now I let you down when I was trying so hard to just protect you."

"Santana." Brittany was staring wide-eyed into her face, her own tears stopped dead. "Santana, stop. You're not making sense." She reached out to grip at Santana's flailing wrists. "Y-You thought Finn and Rory were going to take me from you?"

Santana took a shuddering breath. "I heard them the other day talking about it. And so I knew I had to get them back and so I had a go at them in the hall way today."

Brittany's eyes were roaming over Santana's face, her grip curving tighter around Santana's arms.

"And he told you to _come out_?" She prompted in a voice wavering with emotion. Santana nodded. Brittany's voice became thinner. "And h-he told you that I didn't love you back?"

Santana closed her eyes against the fresh tears but they came anyway.

Then Brittany was the one crushing their bodies together, her arms forming a bind around Santana's back, her fingers gripping into Santana's skin. Santana let herself sink into Brittany's warmth, inhale the scent of her neck. She let the comfort swell around her and beat back the tears. Her breathing became more even and the whirling in her head lessened in frequency.

When she felt like she could handle the world outside the Never Never Land of Brittany's arms, Santana lifted her head out of the crook of Brittany's neck and looked up.

Brittany was looking back down at her.

"How did you get yourself so muddled up?" She asked, tweaking Santana's nose gently. "How could you even think for a septillionth of a second that I would be too scared to be there for you? I'm not like Ghandi… I people before my presidential campaign. And I put _you _before people."

"So I'm-I'm not a person?" Santana sniffed, a small sly smile twitching on her lips.

"No silly," Brittany shook her head vehemently. "You're _everything._"

And then, she bent her head closer and kissed Santana.

Brittany could kiss like she was singing onto Santana's tongue. There was nothing _quite _like the way her lips worked- the way she seemed to know when to deepen it and when to pull away. Tonight she kissed Santana as though she was trying to coax all the hurt out and swallow it. Make it her own.

Santana melted into Brittany, her body completely undone as Brittany rolled on top of her. They kissed until Santana felt like she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen and then just in time, Brittany breathed for her, expelling the air from her lungs hotly into Santana's.

Brittany's hands were everywhere- she must have more than two, Santana thought blearily. They cradled Santana's breasts, they trailed down her ribs, her stomach. Her thighs.

When Brittany removed her mouth from Santana's own, Santana felt a pang of loss but then it's sweltering warmth was tugging at one of Santana's nipples and she lost the world around her for a moment.

When she came back to, sensations were rushing around her body and she didn't know what to feel first. The lap for Brittany's tongue at her breasts. The soft scatter of her blonde hair against Santana's throat. Or, her fingers. Her _fingers- _edging their way under her underwear, slipping over her wetness, circling her clit until the breath left Santana and she moaned loudly.

Brittany lifted her head and caught the sound in another searing kiss. Santana moaned again against the press of Brittany's lips and wrapped her arms around Brittany's shoulders.

She'd never been anyone's like this before.

Brittany was tugging away at Santana's underwear, still kissing her. Santana tilted her hips and helped kick them off and then, gloriously, Santana felt that dull twinge as Brittany slipped her fingers inside of her.

Santana opened her legs wider, her fingernails raking at Brittany's back.

Brittany tugged her fingers back and forth deep inside Santana- hitting a spot that made Santana go blind . She rocked her hips against Brittany's hand and opened her mouth as Brittany kissed her more desperately than she ever had before. Their mouths and tongues clashed together clumsily, hungrily. And pleasure was working itself like a switchboard through Santana's body as Brittany surged deeper inside of her, rocking her own hips against her hand.

Through this rush, through all the madness and haste, Brittany pulled slightly out of their kiss but stayed upon Santana's lips, murmuring against them.

Santana was too far gone to instantly pick up what she was saying- her eyes had rolled back in her head as she felt all her muscles draw into themselves in anticipation and somewhere above Brittany's fingers, a rising tide of pleasure.

But gradually, after they'd been repeated enough times, her brain untangled the sound of Brittany's words.

_I love you. _Said again and again.

Brittany's rhythm against her lips, made to match the strokes of her fingers.

"I love you. I love you." Her voice was cracked, her breath mingling against Santana's own jagged gasps.

Santana pitched over the edge, losing everything to the thundering release. She wanted to tell Brittany she loved her back but she had no words amidst this. Dimly she thought, there would be time afterwards.

There would be so much time.


	13. Rumour Has It

**Note: **

**New chapter super fast coz I'm going away again for a few days and wanted to upload this before I have no internet. Story of my life really. **

**I won't rant too much about this chapter, except to say that the last scene was pretty hard for me to write. I know what its like to have the closet whipped out from around you and it is very very not nice. So writing it was hard because I felt like I had all this experience to tap into and got overwhelmed and am not quite sure I hit the nail on the head. By ohwell, everyone loves a tryer! **

**Oh and! I was tossing up the idea of incorporating a few scenes from Brittany's POV in the upcoming chapters. Especially because _I Kissed A Girl _really let me down with lack of Brittany inclusion. **

**Hmm. I'm not a hundred percent sure on it yet. I'm very comfortable with Santana's voice and I don't know if Brittany's would sit right- I don't want it to sound forced or for her to come across completely childish which would kind of make it weird writing sex scenes. :S**

**So let me know if you think I should or not! It's up to you guys! :)**

**Also can I just say, the reviews so far have been really moving! It's so nice to hear that you guys can see authenticity in the characters. That and humour are what I really, really am wanting to get across in this story. **

**You guys are the best!**

**Enjoy :) **

**P.S whose excited for Tuesday? (Wednesday for us NZ folk) **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 13: Rumour Has It<strong>

_"Tornadoes are natures most destructive force. These violent storms have ravaged America, crippling communities all across our land. Isn't it time we take a stand? If you honour me with being your next class president I will make tornadoes illegal at McKinley, keeping you and your families at our school safe from their murderous rampages."_

Brittany lay the thick piece of paper she'd been reading off onto the Lima Bean café table between her and Santana.

"Well? What do you think?"

Santana hesitated, twirling the paper around so that she could look at it more closely. A thick swirl of grey, blue and black paint whirled down the page, narrowing at the bottom.

"It's a tornado," Brittany said helpfully.

"Yeah I…" Santana trailed her eyes to the square bit of printed text that had been cut out and glued over the paint near the middle. The font was some ridiculously curly text with little hearts dotting the i's. "...I can see that. Hey Britt, did you...did you write this last night?"

Brittany smiled as she shook her head.

"I was a bit busy to do all this last night, don'tcha think?"

Santana felt a flush creep up to the tops of her ears.

"I meant _before _I came over," she muttered, looking down into her coffee cup. Under the table Brittany hooked their ankles together.

"I found it under my bed this morning while you were showering. It's a part of my 8th grade natural disasters speech," she said happily. "I've just changed the words around a bit to suit the debate but I think it's such a good idea, don't you?"

The brightness in Brittany's eyes was hard to break and Santana stumbled over the right words.

"You don't think it's a little...it's just a bit off topic do you, B?"

Brittany jerked her head back in a frown. "No, not at all."

Santana nodded. "Okay, that's cool. I just think that maybe tornadoes aren't really an issue that a Senior Class President has to concentrate on. It's more the weatherman's job."

"Uh San," Brittany raised her eyebrows and tapped at the page. "Don't you get how much of a serious threat they are?"

Santana decided to press the point. This was her chance to help Britt and even if that meant hurting her feelings now, it was better than letting her humiliate herself in front of the whole senior class.

"I just…" She bit her lip, delicately picking apart her words. "I just don't think the rest of the students care as much about tornados as you do. They don't understand how- how dangerous they are. "

Brittany pointed at her enthusiastically. "_Exactly _my point! We need to educate these kids!" She hit the bottom of her fist down on the table for emphasis. Santana grinned and shook her head.

"Okay okay. But how about you incorporate something that connects back to the girl power flash mob thing?" Santana shimmed her shoulders to demonstrate.

Brittany, midway through a sip of her hot chocolate, grinned, trailing her eyes over Santana's wiggling chest.

"Oh yeah. I like that idea,'" she nodded. "I'll tell everyone that they can see my girl powers on Tuesdays!"

"Why only…"

"Topless Tuesdays!" Brittany cut over her in excitement, pumping a fist in the air. Santana snorted in disbelief and rolled her eyes.

"What?" Brittany was pouting. "It's a great idea. And I'm sure once it happened there would be no complains from _you_."

Santana coughed against her mouthful of coffee and swallowed awkwardly.

"Britt," she muttered warningly, shooting a glance around the café to make sure no one had overheard. Usually before a school day the place was packed with WMHS students but Santana guessed they'd been early enough to beat the rush because she saw no one she recognised. When she directed her eyes back to their table she caught Brittany smiling coyly across from her.

Santana leaned closer. "I would complain at the fact that my girlfriend would be walking around while everyone is creaming themselves over her boobs. I- I kind of like the thought that they're just for me to see."

She sat back, embarrassed by her own words.

Brittany paused, her head tilted sideways at Santana, grinning like a maniac. "Well, they're just for you to _touch._ But other people are allowed to see them. I mean, I see them all the time and so does Lord Tubbington." She shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"Yeah but, I-I don't want the football guys to think they can get a free ride just because you're topless. And I'd rather they get their thrills from somewhere other than your chest."

Brittany trailed her tongue across her bottom lip, suddenly lost in thought.

"Artie's family have a handicap pass that they keep in their car which lets them park in the handicap parks. So I could get a sign that says like…" She drew a square with her finger in the air in front of her chest, "Santana parking only and then give you the pass. You'd just have to be careful not to lose it!" Brittany sat back in her chair, looking happy with herself.

Santana couldn't help but grin.

"I'm not going to say no to that idea. But how about you makes Tuesdays just like a topless day for everyone who wants to join in. That you're not the only one...on display."

"Ooh yeah. Then the footballers will be distracted from me with all the other boobs all around and then you won't have to worry!"

Santana shook her head, still grinning.

"Even with all those other boobs around I would put money on them not being distracted from yours."

Britt twisted in her seat and stuck her tongue out at Santana.

Santana shook her head, snorting softly with laughter. Then she downed the last gulp of her coffee and waved at a nearby waitress for another- She was prepared to beat this looming hangover with a caffeine propelled air missile if she had to.

While they waited for her coffee, Santana nodded back down at the tornado page.

"Go on, read it again. And remember to try make eye contact with your audience as much as you can okay?"

Brittany picked up the paper and took a gulp of air, then began to read in a voice that was deadpanned by nerves. Santana listened attentively, feeling more and more anxious about having to see Britt say it in front of everyone. Santana knew that the topless thing would guarantee Britt an easy majority of the votes (McKinley had more perverts that an entire season of To Catch A Predator), but she knew Brittany would hate speaking in front of everyone. Santana wished she could do it in her place.

Halfway through Brittany's recital, Santana's attention was interrupted by the loud clang of the doorbell and the giggling and shouting hoard of girls erupting through it.

Santana glanced over at them, recognising most of them from various classes they'd shared with her over the years. The WMHS take over of The Lima Bean had begun.

She was pretty sure that she knew their group as a whole too. They were part of what Quinn used to refer to as the _middle class._ Kids with average grades, a mild knowledge about what was cool and how to stay under the radar. They wore cheaper versions of the rich kids clothes and were the group that got invited to the bigger parties but were left off the guest list at casual weekend drinks.

Santana wasn't sure that she'd exchanged more than two words with any of them in her life.

They all made their way over to the counter, lining up to order. Santana watched one of them, an Asian girl in a polka dot dress, turn to the girl waiting behind her and begin to say something. As she spoke she trailed her eyes around the café.

Her eyes flicked over Santana and Brittany's table, caught Santana's eye briefly and then moved on. However, a split second later the girl stilled, stopped what she was saying mid-sentence and doubled her gaze back over to their table.

Santana hurriedly turned her attention back to Brittany who was onto the last few lines of her paragraph. But her voice was drowned out by a sudden eruption of giggles from over near the counter.

Santana whipped her head back around to see that the Asian girl was now surrounded by all the others. They had all seemingly abandoned their attempts at ordering and were now completely preoccupied by whispering and nudging one another, taking turns to look over towards Brittany and Santana.

Santana felt a cold sweat rise up her body and suddenly she was angry. So, so angry. She set her jaw and glared over at the girls, fury coiling in her chest. She couldn't believe that the hallway incident had travelled so fast. She had completely underestimated how serious this was. Fear was curdling in the pit of her stomach and she was pretty sure she was going to spit up the coffee she'd just consumed.

"San…" Brittany waved a hand in front of her face, trying to gather her attention. Santana reluctantly looked over at her.

"Did I sound less like a killer cyborg that time?" Brittany asked anxiously.

"Huh? Oh. Ah, a little louder I think," Santana advised, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Heeree you go." The bright voice of the waitress interrupted them. Santana looked down at the table as a coffee and a muffin were placed in front of her.

"Uh, hey," she called the waitress back and pointed at the muffin. "I didn't order that."

"Oh! It's complimentary when you order your second early morning coffee. They're a day or two old but edible enough." She smiled brightly.

"Erm...right...Thanks." Santana waited until the waitress had left before gingerly pushing the muffin plate away from her. Brittany picked it up and calmly took a large bite out of the top.

"Mmmm, 'sfine!" She mumbled, her cheeks bulging and her lips scattered with crumbs. Santana felt a smile take over her disgust and release some of the angry tension building within her.

"Rather you than me."

Brittany swallowed and promptly filled her mouth with another bite as Santana turned her attention to her coffee.

"Hey Brittany!" A high voice, full of accentuated politeness and surprise sounded above them.

Simultaneously, Santana and Brittany looked up.

One of the giggling girls, a blond, plain faced one, was standing over them holding a coffee to go. Behind her, the rest of the pack were lingering around- their eyes bright with anticipation.

Santana's insides stilled as anger turned them cold as stone. She notched her chin up to glare around at whatever one happened to catch her eye. Across from her, Brittany struggled to gulp down her mouthful and then said happily, "Hey Christie! Will I be seeing you in Economics today?"

With a swoop in her stomach, Santana realised Brittany was oblivious to what was happening to them.

The girl called Christie widened her fake smile. "You sure will," she said brightly. Then she threw a glance over her shoulder at her friends. Several of them nodded encouragingly.

Santana clenched her fists on the table. She was one knowing smile away from going all she-hulk on the lot of them.

"You look like you're enjoying that _muff-_in." Christie said.

Brittany nodded, glancing down at the plate in front of her. "Yup uhuh. It's pretty good. Santana let me have it coz she doesn't like stale muffins."

Way at the back of the group, one of the girls lost the battle with her laughter, snorting loudly. Santana watched in horror as the whole group began to struggle even harder to stifle their amusement.

Christie's voice was wavering with it as she asked Brittany whether or not she was ready for the debate later on that day. Brittany nodded slowly, a frown of confusion creasing her forehead as she took in the girls scattered giggles.

"I-I think so, yep. Going to make sure everyone is reminded about lady power!"

This proved too much for the Asian girl who had first spotted them. Laughter burst through the hand she had clasped against her mouth and she had to walk away, flanked by two other hysterical girls.

Christie barely had it together herself.

"W-well," she said, her voice undercut by rising giggles. "You...I hope you enjoy that _muff_in." She turned on her heel and led the girls away, her shoulders shaking as she released her laughter.

Rage propelled Santana out of her chair with such force that it skittered backwards across the floor.

"What the _hell _is your problem?" She called to their retreating backs.

Christie and the others stopped and then turned to face Santana.

"N-nothing." Christie stammered, looking alarmed at the expression on Santana's face.

"Really?" Santana's voice was iced with contempt. She stepped around the table and walked closer to Christie, almost blinded by anger.

Christie had become Finn. Rory. Every one of those stupid foot ball retards. Santana felt all the things she'd been holding back for the last 24 hours rise like vomit in her throat.

"Can you tell me what the _fuck _is so funny about baked goods?" Her voice carried through the café and people were beginning to notice.

Let them look, thought Santana, furious.

"N-nothing," Christie repeated, backing further into the girls behind her away from the advancing steps of Santana.

Santana laughed and nodded in mock understanding. "Ohh, nothing? Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I guess I must have just imagined your friends standing behind you snuffling like it was feeding time in the pig pen."

"Uh, what is _your_ problem?" One of the girls who probably had a death wish, stepped up to Christie's side. Santana looked her up and down, twisting her features into a sneer.

"Well actually, now you've opened your mouth, _you're_ my problem. See, I just remembered why your face is so familiar. It's because I used to have nightmares about it living under my bed." Santana continued to look the girl up and down. "But now I thinkl it'll be the memory of your outfit wakes me up screaming tonight. You look like…" She broke into over exaggerated laughter. "Woo...okay, okay," she stammered, pretended to compose herself. "You look like you were dressed by some bipolar housewife who was having a bad day because she just turned 41 and took a buttload of Diazepam to get her through it without going and having a heart to heart with her gas oven." Santana craned her neck around the café, "I wonder how long it's going to take her to notice that you've escaped from her handbag."

Santana could read no laughter on any of the girls faces now. Some of them actually looked close to tears. Still, Santana advanced on them until she was practically toe-to-toe with Christie.

"I hope you weren't planning on drinking that…?" She gestured down at the coffee cup Christie was holding. Christie began to muddle over words and Santana mirrored her mouth movements.

"I-I...Oh, oh, you-you were, were you?" Santana stuck out her bottom lip in sympathy and then with a vipers strike of her hand she dashed the coffee cup from Christie's grip.

It's impact against the floor popped it's lid off and coffee splashed everywhere.

Santana jumped back and gasped theatrically.

"Oh, shit. Sorry! Sorry, sorry!" She said, flapping her hands in false panic. Christie was blinking at her in shock, coffee dripping down her legs and into her shoes.

"But...hey!" Santana lit her face in a bright smile. "On the bright side, you get to order another one now. And I've just found out the when you order your second early morning coffee you get a complimentary muffin! So yay! You'll have your own so you won't have to gag over Brittany's anymore." Santana patted her hands together in a soft clap and then turned on her heel, sauntering victoriously back to her table.

Brittany was twisted around in her chair, watching her approach with a small smile tugging at her lips.

As Santana dropped back into her seat she noticed that Britt had left one bite of the muffin on her plate. Santana picked it up and plopped it in her mouth, chewing through a grin.

* * *

><p>Even after they'd finished, Santana heard the music ringing in her ears.<p>

_Could it be called music? _

Day one of the Mash-off was over and Santana sat in the auditorium shell shocked by how completely _awful _the New Directions had been. In fact, Santana was reluctant to believe she was awake when what she'd just witnessed followed so closely to the narrative of her most deeply disturbing nightmare.

_Yes, it was that bad. _

Finn's shirt was so pink and clingy that Santana was half convinced he'd just gone shirtless under his blazer. The rest of them had pranced around with moustaches stuck to their faces and Puck was wearing a curly black wig that Santana was pretty sure had been made using Gibbon pubic hair.

It was the first time she'd seen Finn and Rory since the hallway incident. What had happened in the café earlier had added to Santana's stockpiled resentment of them and she was looking for a chance to release it. Seeing as Shelby and Mr Shue had gone back stage to organise with the band about returning tomorrow, Santana decided to take this opportunity.

She vaulted over her seat and headed away from Brittany and the Troubletones to the stage.

Finn was watching her approach warily and called out to her as she neared them.

"Santana I think you and I need to talk-"

She arrived in front of him and held up a hand. "You don't get to say _anything _to me while you're wearing that outfit."

"Santana…" Rachel stepped forwards, clasping her hands in front of her.

Santana rounded on her. "Was I talking to you?" She snarled and Rachel took a step back closer to Finn, shaking her head.

"I just think that maybe what Finn suggested is a good idea. I mean, I would be happy to stay and mediate- I learnt how to at a young age so I could help whenever my Dad's had their annual disagreement about who was the best dressed during the red carpet season."

"There is nothing to mediate," Santana snapped, glaring at Finn. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mercedes, Sugar and Brittany filing out of their isles to approach the stage too.

"I-I think there might be," Rachel stammered, glancing around at Finn.

Santana narrowed her eyes and stepped up closer to Finn and Rachel.

"I came here to congratulate you all actually. I think you're all settling into your early onset midlife crisis's really nicely. I mean, whew, what a brain wave it was to give the male solos to the two guys in glee club who have the most sex appeal. I mean one of them entices us with all that _jiggle,_" She gestured up and down Finn's midriff. "While the other," she jerked her head at Rory, "slips us his seductive looks. And who knew that the European tradition of attracting females by imitating the face you make when you're struggling to pass gas would translate so well over here." She clapped, shaking her head in mock speechlessness. "And, ohmygosh how could I forget- Blaine, that moustache made me believe for a second that you may actually have balls. And Rachel, that short skirt confirmed the existence of yours as well. So really it was a great day all around for the New Directions."

"Santana," Finn stepped closer, speaking quietly through gritted teeth. "This is really not the way to be handling this, can we just have this conversation in private?"

Santana put a finger to her lips, pretending to consider. Then she rolled her eyes and huffed a sigh.

"Fine, fine." She stepped back and gestured out the auditorium doors. "Ladies first."

Finn pressed his lips together, frowned nervously at Rachel, and then began to walk past Santana towards the door. As he took the last step past her, Santana stuck out her foot, tangling it between Finn's ankles. Finn pitched forward as his feet clashed together and twisted underneath him.

"Timber!" Santana called as he thudded heavily to the stage floor.

"Finn!" Rachel squealed, rushing up to him and crouching down, brushing her hands over his back.

"Oh calm down Frodo," Santana snapped. "If I were you I'd be more worried about the woodland creatures nesting in his bellybutton." Rachel glared up at her.

"They could have been crushed." Santana pointed out, shrugging.

"You know, you really have gone too far this time Santana," Rachel said, helping Finn to his feet. "I think I better be going to warn Shelby and Mr Shue that some of us aren't entering properly into the spirit of things and maybe should be made to sit out their number."

Santana took a step forwards, bristling. "You think _I _went too far? _Really_? And how about you?" She drew her eyes up to Finn, daring him to argue. Daring him to tempt her again. She wouldn't need telling twice, she thought, clenching her fists, eyeing up the corner of his jaw to connect it to.

"Do you think _I'm_ the one who went too far?"

Finn opened and closed his mouth stupidly.

"No?" Santana tilted her head. "No, I didn't think so."

* * *

><p>The next day was a better day. Santana knew it was clique to match your mood with the weather but the liquid autumn sun lit up the streets that morning made the city seem like it was someplace else.<p>

Somewhere that Santana would actually like to live. Somewhere with possibilities and a wide, open sky.

Picking up Britt and taking her to get hotcakes before school was another thing that brightened the morning, especially when Santana got to kiss her syrupy lips in the car afterwards.

As the bell rang to signal the end of last period Santana could count only two things that had dampened that day.

The first had been a 'Just Take A Swing Our Way' golf club pamphlet that had been slipped into the slots of her locker. Thankfully, Santana had managed to flush it down the girls toilets without anyone seeing.

The second dampener had been the fact that she'd just spent last period in history with Finn.

She and Britt had arrived late from a last minute Troubletones run through of their mash-up before that afternoons performance and interrupted Mrs Clearwater's speech about the positives of Communism.

"All I'm saying," she was saying, "is that Stalin had a _point_ before he went a bit sideways and starved those peasants like they were Africans in a drought."

"S-sorry we're late Mrs C," Brittany said politely, having to rise her voice above the disconcerted murmurings of the rest of the students. Santana couldn't blame them- the only thing Ms Clearwater liked better than Nazi's was the Russian revolution. She was a woman of complex contradictions.

"Fine, fine girls," she said, waving a hand airily. "Just take a seat."

Santana glanced around the room to the only two empty seats. Right behind Puck and Finn. Since the night she'd overheard Finn and Rory Santana had made sure that she and Britt didn't sit anywhere near Finn. Today however, there was no choice.

She led Brittany down the isle past them. Finn kept his head down to his textbook but Puck nodded at her and she shot him her usual coy smirk.

As soon as they'd taken their seats Brittany had her out note pad and had begun copying the notes down off the board furiously. Brittany loved everything to do with Russia. She'd seen the Disney version of Anastasia and it had taken off from there. On a good day if she closed her eyes and put her fingers in her ears Britt could recite nearly the entire Romanov dynasty. Santana had heard her do it and never would have believed hearing an oral family tree could be so sexy.

Santana threw her attention to the front of the class, attempting to follow Mrs Clearwater's rant but Finn's bulk in front of her blocked out almost the entire board. She huffed a sigh and dropped her head into her arms, hoping she could take a sneaky snooze to get herself energised for the performance that afternoon.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she concentrated on the brush of Brittany's elbow against her forearm. But something had begun tickling her other farm annoyingly and she lifted her head to see a folded piece of paper on the desk in front of her.

She recognised the scrawl of Finn's writing and hit it off her desk in disgust. Finn glanced around at her, noticed his note was on the floor and then leant back in his chair.

"Santana, can you please just read it?"

Santana glared at him and shook her head.

"Santana. You know I completely regret what I did and I really want to make this right."

Ruthlessly, Santana shot her hand into the air.

"Mrs Clearwater!" She called, leaning around Finn so that the teacher would notice her. Mrs Clearwater lowered the English translation of one of Stalin's speeches that she'd been reading aloud and looked up.

"Yes dear?"

"The boy in front of me is making suggestive comments. And," she pointed at the floor to where she'd cast aside his note. "He's littering."

Mrs Clearwater frowned at Finn. "Unless you were suggesting a game of Where In The World Is Leon Trotsky, there is no excuse for talking while I'm talking. And pick up your rubbish."

"Leon Trotsky was in Mexico," Brittany murmured absently, lifting her head to read the next line of notes off the board. "He was murdered with an ice axe and buried in Coyoacán, one of the sixteen boroughs of Mexico city." She grinned faintly to herself. "I win."

Santana shot her a proud smile, trying to ignore the look of betrayal Finn was giving her as he bent to pick up the note.

By the time he'd arrived back from the rubbish bin, Santana had another plan. As Finn lined himself up to sit down in his chair Santana hooked her ankle around one of it's legs and jerked it backwards.

For the second time in two days Finn lost his balance and sprawled onto the floor. Santana threw her head back and laughed loudly, taking extra delight in the fact that the rest of the class was laughing too. Even Mrs Clearwater was simpering over her notes.

As Finn got clumsily to his feet and righted his chair, Santana looked over to bask in Brittany's amusement but she found Brittany's forehead was creased in a frown.

"What?" Santana mouthed, frowning herself.

Brittany shook her head and looked back at the board as Mrs Clearwater resumed talking.

"I'll tell you after class," she said.

So the bell rang for the end of school and Santana wound her way to the exit of the class room, hoping like hell Brittany was not going to give the day a third dampener. Brittany didn't speak until they arrived at a corridor thinned out of students.

"You were pretty mean in class today," she said finally.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Well some people just seem to _inspire _it in me."

"Uhuh. Okay." Brittany dropped her eyes to her feet. Santana glanced sideways at her and felt her resolve crack. She sighed.

"Fiine. Just spit out what you want to say, it's okay, I can take it."

Brittany bit her lip and looked up at Santana.

"I think you need to stop making fun of Finn. You're being really harsh."

"Manatees have really thick skin," Santana pointed out. Brittany half smiled and shook her head. She looked ready to say something else but was interrupted as Becky attempted a waddling jog towards them, her sneakers smacking loudly against the lino floor.

"Santana!" She puffed, arriving in front of them. "Coach Sue needs you in her office right away."

"Just me?" Santana asked. Lately all the meetings she'd had with Sue had been in the presence of Becky as her co-Capitan.

"Uhuh. Jus you." Becky nodded. Santana stifled a smile, wondering why it had taken Coach Sue this long to realise there could only be one proper captain. It looked like she'd finally realised that the swamp where Becky had her hut was too out of the way to pull off a late night delivery of protein powder to Coaches house.

"Hmm, well I have to go and get ready for the mash-up," She paused.

"Just go see Coach and I'll tell the others you'll be a bit late. It'll be fine," Brittany said.

Santana nodded. "Alright, thank you."

When Becky had turned away Britt reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

"_Nice going, Captain."_ She whispered.

Santana grinned like a six year old and playfully shoved Brittany back along the corridor then turned and headed towards Coach Sue's office. At the corner of the hallway she stopped and looked back. Brittany was standing where she'd left her and when she caught Santana looking she stuck out her tongue and twirled away sharply, purposefully putting extra swing into the turn so that the flaps of her Cheerios skirt skittered up above her butt.

Santana melted just a little bit and carried on around the corner.

Today had been a good day.

* * *

><p>Sugar was the first one to see her coming. She glanced up from the mirror in the dressing room and cracked a wide smile of relief. Santana had never seen something's end cut across it's beginning so violently as that smile of Sugar's. It was only half on her face when faltered and then cracked beneath a look of horror.<p>

Santana had abandoned any attempt to stop her sobs. They filled the whole room as she burst into it, making everyone jump.

Santana crossed the dressing room like a storm, shoving past Sugar and banging a stray desk and chair out of the way so she could reach Brittany who'd already opened her arms, wearing a look more terrified than Sugar's.

They collided hard enough to make Brittany stagger slightly under Santana's weight but Santana was beyond caring. She had let go like a little girl, bawlinginto Brittany's neck. Huge, heaving sobs rolled through her body, jarring it against Brittany's.

Santana believed she must have lost her hearing, must have lost any perception of what was going on around her. Brittany was saying something but it sounded vague and far off. Her hands were stroking Santana's back but her touch felt dull- like Santana's nerves weren't computing the pressure properly.

Santana pulled back, her features crumpling even further as she saw the distraught on Brittany's face.

"Santana…What happened?"

Santana heard the snap of the door closing behind them and she turned to see Mercedes walking gingerly over to them. She'd shut the other Troubletones out. When she saw that Brittany and Santana had turned around she faltered and gestured towards the door.

"I-I can leave too if you want?"

Santana shook her head and the turned back to Brittany, burying her head once again into her neck. Brittany's arms came around her, squeezing her so tightly Santana had to struggle to breathe. But somehow, having to battle for air helped even her breathing out, and her sobs became smaller until they were just quakes that rang through her every now and then.

"I watched this episode on Grey's Anatomy where a lady asks Doctor Bailey and Doctor Yang to hug her when she was having a panic attack," Brittany deadpanned. It was the voice she used to keep herself from crying. "She told them that if they applied enough pressure it would depress her sympathetic nervous system and slow her heart and metabolic rates. So I'm trying it on you."

Santana sniffed and hugged Brittany harder against her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

From behind them, Mercedes spoke.

"What happened? Was it Finn again?"

"Worse," Santana mumbled against Brittany's neck. Brittany's grip around her tightened.

"What kind of worse?" Mercedes asked.

Santana reluctantly pulled her face away from Brittany and straightened up. Brittany didn't relinquish her hold but let her twist around so that she could see both of them.

Santana recounted what happened in Sue's office with a calmness the surprised even herself. She knew it was the still before the storm- she could feel everything inside her churning, adrenalin sparking along her nerves.

"It's going to run across the _whole_ of Ohio?" Mercedes asked, horror-struck.

Santana squeezed her eyes closed and nodded.

"S-so you'll have to...I mean...everyone is going to…"

"Everyone's going to know," Santana nodded. She looked at Brittany and was surprised to see her face wavering in tears. Santana swallowed the lump in her throat and bent back to Brittany, curving their bodies against one another.

Under her grasp, Brittany began to cry. They were soft sobs, compared to Santana's. They weren't frenzied. But they were jarring against Santana's body. She could hear the fear in them.

"Britt…" She sighed sadly, looking up into her face. Tears were streaming down Brittany's cheeks, her face a tight ball of pain.

"This isn't fair," She gasped, shaking her head. She took a shuddering breath. "_This isn't fair_."

Santana didn't know what to say. Watching Brittany cry had intensified her own fear and Santana's eyes grew hot once again with her own tears. She tightened her grip on Brittany, remembering the Grey's Anatomy thing.

The sound of someone knocking tentatively on the door made Santana look up to see Sugar edging her head around the door nervously.

"I-I told everyone to give us twenty minutes. Is that enough time or should I…" Mercedes shot Santana a glance.

"We don't have to do this today," She clarified. "We don't have to do this today but we _won't _do it without you."

Santana shut her eyes and blew air up to her forehead, trying to steady herself. In her arms Brittany was sniffing and wiping her face with the back of her hands. "Mercedes is right," she said in a thin voice. "We can't do this without you."

"Na-uh." Sugar added from the door.

Santana looked at each one of them in turn, taking deep breaths.

"It's okay. I- we'll do this today. Now."

Sugar's face lit up. "Okay, okay I'll go get the others!" She pulled her head from the door.

"I'll-I'll give you two a minute," Mercedes said, following Sugar.

As the door clicked closed Santana and Brittany turned to one another, taking in each others tear mottled faces.

"How did it all get so bad so quickly?" Santana wondered aloud.

Brittany shrugged, pulling her lips to one side.

"It's like…" Santana vaulted her eyes to the ceiling. "It's like...Just when I think things are working out, just when I let my guard down a little, someone comes in and right hooks me in the jaw. _Twice._"

"I think you'd make a great boxer," Brittany said in a small voice. Santana smiled sideways at her but it quickly faltered as a thought occurred to her.

"You think I can do anything, don't you?"

"_Anything."_ Brittany nodded.

"Well I don't think I can do _this."_ Santana's voice cracked.

Brittany stepped closer, brushing one hand up her back.

"The song? You want me to go tell the others…"

"No, no. Not that. I meant afterwards. When the ad runs. When...When everyone knows about the part of me that I'm still a ashamed of. I just feel like…" She took a shuddering breath. "I just feel like I never got to chose that I'm..._gay._ But I always thought I'd have the right to control how I dealt with it and how I projected it to the world. Turns out it that was for everyone _but _me to decide."

"Santana...you…" Brittany rolled her eyes around the room, as though the words she needed would be there. "This isn't going to be easy. I get that and I'm scared. I'm scared just like you because I don't ever want to see you upset, or hurt or brought down for being the person that I love. But…" She slipped her arms from around Santana and took her hands. "You will be brave because I know that you can be. I know that you're the bravest person I know. And you can do anything."

Santana hesitated, tears screwing up her face again. But she nodded through them.

"Okay," she let out a steadying breath, not looking away from Brittany's face. All her courage was anchored there.

"Okay. Let's do this."


	14. The One In The Sun

**Note:**

**Hello! **

**I'm sorry it's taken a while to update but I didn't manage to get it finished in time to upload it before I had no internet! **

**Okay so you know how last chapter I said it had been hardest for me to write? Yeah well, I lied. This was way harder! **

**So this me attempting to tackle the _I Kissed A Girl _episode. As usual it's the first of two chapters centred around the ep. **

**Just quickly, I wanted to thank you all for your interest and reviews- they are getting more in-depth as each chapter gets uploaded and I really appreciate them all! I must mention a special thanks to MadMabry and RedDevilOutTheWindow  who encouraged me to include in this chapter a few scenes from Brittany's POV which I have done and enjoyed writing thoroughly. **

**It'd be cool to let me know what you all think of the Brittany scenes and whether or not you think I should continue this way- Like I said last chapter, I'll write what you guys like...unlike the actual Glee writers. (Though ups to them for the cute Brittana scene in 3x10, I'm excited to sink my teeth into that one.)**

**Again, please accept my apologies if there are annoying spelling mistakes or grammar slips ups- It's the end of a very long day! **

**p.s- I'm sorry for lack of Brittana sexy times. I promise I'll include some in the next chapter!**

**oh and p.p.s- this programme won't let me make a heart that goes at the end Santana's name in Brittany's phone- _My __Girlfriend_. So there will be a random '3' there and you guys will just have to pretend it's a heart :) **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 14: The One in the Sun<strong>

**Brittany:**

Brittany was first to her homeroom class. She even arrived before the teacher which meant she had to turn the lights on herself and she had the pick of all the desks.

As usual, she chose the ones four rows back near the windows. She liked those desks because Santana had doodled on one of them last week- a smiley face that wasn't smiling but sticking it's tongue out.

Brittany sat down and traced her finger across the grooves of that face, wondering how much trouble Santana was in right now. Santana had promised to text her when she was done with her meeting with Principal Figgins. She'd promised that she'd be fine- that Shelby would fight to keep her from getting in to much trouble because without her in the Troubletones they'd lose sectionals.

Aimlessly, Brittany flicked the badge on her chest that said "Vote Brittany." Then when she'd had her fill of the oddly satisfying clinking sound it made she pulled out a box of Dots from her bag. She picked out one of each color from the opening at the top and tried to compose a makeshift rainbow. Red, pink, orange, yellow and green. RPOYG. Not as exciting as ROYGBIV but it was the best she could do. She left those Dots in a line in front of her and ate a red one from the box.

It tasted overly sugary and felt too thick in her throat to swallow so she spat it into her hand, wrapped it in a spare leaf of paper she found in her binder and wiped off her fingers on her uniform skirt.

She looked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard. She had half an hour until homeroom started. She'd spent four minutes at her locker, and one minute at Santana's- making sure that no more Golf club pamphlets had been stuffed inside.

If her calculations were right, it meant that Brittany had been sitting in home room for five minutes. And that meant she'd left Santana at Principal Figgins office ten minutes ago.

Brittany wondered how many bad things could happen in ten minutes.

Deciding that the Dots lined up on her desk were making her stomach feel churny, she dropped them one by one back into the box, feeling a bit like God for letting them live another day. Or another few hours depending on how long her stomach felt funny.

She wondered about yesterday- about who had won the mash-up. She wondered if the Troubletones had lost points because Santana had slapped Finn. Although technically, Brittany reasoned with herself, the song was already over when she'd done it. Brittany didn't really care who'd won, it seemed a little silly in comparison to what had happened to Santana.

What was still happening, Brittany mentally corrected herself.

Brittany raised her eyes to the clock again.

A minute had past. Then, with a loud 'zzzzzz' that made her jump and made her stomach even more skittery, her phone vibrated in her bag. Eagerly, she extracted it and looked down at the screen. The '1 Message Received' banner had Mercedes name underneath it. Brittany was disappointed but she clicked read anyway.

_What's happening? Any word yet? Is she in big trouble? _

Even though Mercedes hadn't mentioned her by name, Brittany knew she was talking about Santana.

She was halfway through typing a reply when her 'create message' screen was taken over by a banner that informed her that _My Girlfriend 3 _was calling her. Wondering when she'd swallowed the storm churning in her stomach, Brittany pressed 'answer'.

"Where are you, Britt?"

"In homeroom. Where are you? What happened?"

"Finn told them I stage slapped him."

"But you weren't even on the stage when you did it," Brittany frowned. "Why would he say that? Is he trying to get you in more trouble?"

"No, a stage slap means a fake slap that you do if you're in a play or something. Anyway, he got me out of being suspended and missing sectionals."

Brittany was surprised. "You must have slapped some niceness into him."

"Good theory." Santana's voice sounded through Brittany's phone speaker and from the door simultaneously. Brittany looked up in surprise and clicked off her phone, bumbling excitedly from her chair to throwing her arms around Santana's approaching form.

"This is so great. Finally some good news!" She said, pulling back and grinning. Santana's eyes still contained residue of the wildness they'd had since she'd burst into the dressing room the day before, Britt could see warmth creeping back into them as she returned Brittany's grin.

"There's a catch though."

"Oh?"

"Finn wants to do a week long lesson with the New Directions and the Troubletones and it has something to do with me 'embracing my awesome'."

Brittany frowned. "Like… hugging it?"

Santana wound her way past Brittany to sit down in the seat beside the one Brittany had chosen earlier. Brittany sat down beside her.

"No," Santana began to explain, "like…oh my god." She snapped her head up, "it'll be some sort of coming out lesson, I can see it now."

"You think he's going to sing Dianna Ross?" Santana looked horrified at the thought.

"If he does I think my ovaries will shrivel up and die." Santana dropped her head into her hands. "I've gotta go to Coach Sue after homeroom and ask when the ad is going to air so I can time my death to coincide with it."

Brittany caught the fact that it was a joke, but Santana's voice had that wavering quality that she got before she cried. Brittany swallowed the lump of apprehension in her throat.

"San…"

"I'm not serious Britt," She said, her voice soft. Brittany really wanted to lay her head in the crook of Santana's neck and feel Santana's hair tickle the end of her nose but Brittany knew that because they were at school Santana's shoulder would remain stiff and uncomfortable. She traced the smiley face on the desk instead.

"I know," She mumbled. "But it still scares me coz you don't say it like it's a joke."

"Well, I have to admit it's the most appealing option I've got so far. And way more feasible than some of the other options I've thought up."

"I still like that one you thought of last night...about telling your family before they see the ad."

Santana flinched. "That idea was a product of temporary insanity, it's the _most_ stupid idea of them all."

Brittany had so many things to say but just as she was deciding which one to start with, the home room door opened and a group of their class mates burst in, filling the quiet space with their conversation. Brittany closed her slack mouth and said nothing.

After home room, Santana had to go down the hall for English and Brittany had to the opposite way to the gym for P.E. When they reached the hall way outside home room Brittany turned to Santana and tugged at her bag strap, deciding to use their special code to say goodbye.

"I've got a banana for lunch today," Brittany said.

_I love you. _

She watched in delight as a smile twitched the corners of Santana's mouth.

"I've got Tuna-fish sandwiches," she replied, giving Brittany a small wave as she turned to walk to class.

_I love you too. _

* * *

><p><strong><span>Santana<span>:**

It was the end of day two of Finn's musical tirade against Santana's closet doors. The past few days had forced Santana back into it's darkest corner, blocking her ears and humming beat back memories out the god-awful things she'd witnessed in that choir room. Blaine rapping for one thing. Kurt's half length turtle neck that made him look homeless. And then today, Puck's cover of Melissa Etheridge - which had been catchy- but awkward seeing as he had sung it with his eyes glued on Shelby.

Nothing about these lessons had made her feel supported. Santana didn't care if she had the whole glee club backing her up, it didn't make her feel any less alone. It didn't lessen what she had to lose.

It was the end of day two and Santana was seriously considering ditching school for the rest of the week so it could all stop.

And then, as she was getting the stuff she needed for homework out of her locker, Finn had approached her.

And then, he'd told her he didn't want her to die.

Even though Santana had joked it away, even though she'd laughed it off- the words had crawled down her spine- making all the hairs on her neck stand on end.

She'd never watched an _It Gets Better _video, but she'd heard in passing what it was about. She knew it was a big movement, with everyone from Hilary Clinton to nobodies like Kurt and Blaine- all taping themselves telling gay kids that they wouldn't always feel so shitty.

Asking them to live.

When she got home Santana powered up her laptop while she kicked off her sneakers and discarded her bag. As her computer processed to load her desk top Santana undid her pony tail and threaded her fingers through her hair, trying to loosen the tension threading through her. It worked on her scalp but no where else.

Once her desktop had appeared Santana pulled up a Google Chrome window and typed into the search bar a paraphrased version of Finn's words to her earlier.

_Teen commits suicide after making It Gets Better video. _

A bunch of results from news sites loaded, all mentioning a kid called Jamey Rodemeyer. Santana clicked on a link at random and watched as a Washington Post article filled the screen.

_Jamey Rodemeyer, a 14-year-old high school freshman in Buffalo, N.Y., was bullied. A lot. After years of being called gay slurs at school and being told by anonymous people online that he should die, he killed himself Monday._

Santana scrolled down the page until she found the embedded video of Jamey's _It Gets Better _video which, according to the article, he'd made a couple of months before he died. She hovered her mouse over the video, her finger poised to click play. She looked into the still starting image of his face and was surprised at how young he looked. Had she looked that young at 14?

He had nice lips, she noticed. He had big brown eyes. Kind of like her own. He had long eyelashes- the sort that only boys seemed lucky enough to get.

Santana clicked play, not able to shake the thought that she was watching a ghost.

Jamey and Santana didn't appear to have much in common when they were fourteen.

He'd already come out as being bi.

_She'd been dating Puck. And Leon. And Brad. The athlete equivalent of a royal flush- Football, Hockey and Basketball._

He'd been taunted in his school hallways, trapped there, called names.

_She'd been so intimidating that people thanked her for cutting in on them in the cafeteria line. _

He'd been told he was going to hell over the internet.

_She'd had 'devils2ndincommand' as her email user name__._

They had been so different. And yet. Their voices both tilted upwards when they were warding off tears.

Santana had been fourteen when she'd kissed a girl for the first time. It had felt less like kissing and more like being thrown across the room.

Santana had been fourteen the day she picked up her Dad's razor in the shower and pressed the blades harder than she should have against her thumb.

She'd kept going three years longer than Jamey had. But her knots had only tightened, her truths were only further away.

Santana didn't make it through the whole video. She snapped her laptop shut on his still talking image and vaulted off her chair, backing away from her desk like it was diseased. After several steps her calves hit the frame of her bed. She lay down on her side, curled around herself and clutched her knees tightly against her chest to stifle her panic.

Santana had recognized the exhaustion that put a permanent curve on her shoulders, and the fear that she shared her pillow with. The dullness that hollowed out her chest.

She'd seen them all in Jamey's face.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Britta<span>ny:**

No matter how often Santana said she hated Finn's idea for their musical lesson, she wasn't able to convince Brittany.

Brittany had only said out loud once that she thought it was a good idea, the rest of the times she'd tucked her objections like sucker lollies into the corners of her cheeks. She'd let Santana vent because she loved her. And because it meant that she was thinking about it, not blowing it off completely.

Brittany liked the lesson because it meant that everyone she loved was sitting together in the same room again. She liked the lesson because everyone seemed to be starting to understand the things about Santana that Brittany had known all along.

And Brittany liked the lesson because two days into it, three of her best friends in the world approached her in the hallway for the first time since she been magically wished away from the New Directions.

She'd had her head buried in her locker, sifting through her stuff, hoping that the essay plan she'd left in there two weeks ago had grown itself into an essay. Someone said her name and she jumped, hitting her elbow on the corner of the door.

"Ouch," she rubbed it and turned to see who was talking to her.

Artie had positioned his chair in front of her, flanked by Tina and Mike.

"Oh, hey guys." She smiled as brightly as she could and tried to keep her voice soft in case she scared them away like squirrels in the park she'd tried to be friends with.

"Have you guys come asking about my campaign policies? Because…" She shuffled back around in her locker for the shoebox full of extra pamphlets but she stopped when Tina put a hand on her arm.

"A-actually, Mike, Artie and I were wondering if we could have a words with you...privately?"

"Uh...Yeah okay." Brittany nodded, closing her locker and picking up her folder from the ground between her sneakers. Wordlessly, she followed them through the crowd until they reached an unused class room. Brittany smiled fondly when she recognised it as Mr Shue's Spanish class. It was colourfully decorated with all things Spanish- posters of bull fighters and sombreros and people playing guitars. Intermixed with the pictures were bight red and yellow posters with Spanish words on them. The words reminded Brittany of Santana because Santana often spoke a mixture of Spanish and English when she was around her family. And also when she was mad.

And sometimes, when Brittany had been really good, Santana would whisper Spanish into her ear when they were alone- when she was hovering over Brittany in the dark, her hands everywhere at once. And Brittany would pull her closer and kiss her because she liked the taste of Spanish on Santana's tongue.

Brittany stopped thinking about those things because Artie, Mike and Tina were all looking at her and she was pretty sure that Asians and people with glasses could read minds. That's why North Korea was so dangerous.

Brittany propped herself up onto a desk and looked around at them.

"What's up guys?"

Mike, Tine and Artie all shared a glance- obviously playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to work out who would speak first. It seemed Artie had lost.

"Britt," he started, rolling closer to her. "We've been thinking a lot about what's been happening these past few weeks with Santana and the ad and stuff. And since this weeks lesson is designed to help her deal with everything we just were afraid that…well..." He hesitated, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

Tina picked up where he'd left off.

"We were afraid that no one had asked you if you were okay. I mean, asked if you were having a hard time too or if you were coping with everything that's happening?"

Brittany blinked at them, completely taken aback. She thought hard about her answer.

"Well, I mean, when Santana hurts I hurt." She frowned, "though, I think that's actually because we're each others Daemons."

Artie, Mike and Tina all shared another glance and Brittany realised that they might not know what Daemons were.

"You know," she prompted, "like Lyra and Pan? Or Mrs Coulter and her monkey daemon?"

They were all giving her the same puzzled look.

"The Golden Compass?" She asked in a last ditch effort. Tina's face cleared somewhat.

"Oh, that movie with the bear in it?"

Encouraged, Brittany nodded. "A really _big _bear called Iorek Byrnison."

"Oh, okay Britt," Mike laughed. "I think I've seen that one, I get it now." But Brittany thought that he didn't look like he did. And neither did Artie who started to say, "I don-" but then Tina cut across him.

"We're just. Well, we just were wanting to see how you were doing. This is a bit like coming out for you too, isn't it?"

"Well, not really. I mean, I've kissed like...three quarters of this school and a lot of them were girls so...it'd be silly if people didn't know. And besides, I don't keep my own secrets too often, just in case I mix them up with someone else's and spread mine by mistake.

"R-right," Artie faltered. "Do your parents know about you and Santana?"

Brittany shrugged. "I haven't told either of them, but they might."

"Do they know that you like girls and boys?"

Brittany shrugged again. "They could do. But I haven't told them. If they want to know they'll ask and then I'll tell them. It's no big deal, I'm sure they'll be fine with it because like, my Dad wants to be best friends with Ellen and everyone knows she's our leader so all he'll care about is whether or not I can get him free tickets to one of her 12 Days of Giveaways shows. And my Mom used to be a vegan in college so she's obviously who I got it off."

Brittany smiled politely up at the posters on the walls while Artie, Tina and Mike had another telepathic conversation. Then Tina scooted onto the desk beside her and took one of Brittany's hands. When she did that Brittany felt an odd swelling in her chest that usually meant she was about to cry. She realised that she'd missed Tina and then she looked over at Artie and Mike and realised that she missed them too. A lump lodged in her throat.

"We really care about you, you know that right?" Tina asked.

Brittany nodded, blinking back the tears.

"And you know that we love you because you're you. And you shouldn't change for anyone." Brittany grinned and nodded again, her eyes full.

"Uhuh," she replied.

Tina squeezed her hand. "Good."

"Dancing buds for life, yeah?" Mike asked. Brittany put the heel of her palm against her nose and sniffed to clear it.

"Of course,' she replied. "I love you guys."

Artie pumped his fist. "That's the stuff. Bring it in y'all," he exclaimed, opening his arms.

They all tumbled against him in a group hug and Brittany's cheeks began to hurt from grinning.

"I want to perform with you again," Tina whined as they all disengaged.

"So do I," Brittany pouted, wishing there was some way they could all just be one group again without fighting.

And then, an idea struck her that was so good it nearly beat the great Fake Tan Lord Tubbington plan of '09.

"Well, maybe we could!" She said. "I could actually use all you guys for something I'm planning. Artie, do you know how to make a slideshow?"

Artie looked like he was fighting a grin.

"Hmmm, well I'm only programming my own video game at the moment so a slideshow might be a bit advanced for me."

"Oh," Brittany said, disappointed. Something about this made Artie laugh.

"I'm kidding, of course I can help you out with that."

"Oh, yay! Thank you!" She beamed and then beckoned them in closer to her until they resembled a team huddle.

"Here's the plan…"

* * *

><p><strong>Santana:<strong>

Santana sat in third period and did not once glance up at the board to see what she was supposed to be paying attention to. Her mind was whirring around what Coach Sue had told her when Santana had gone in to see her at her office that morning.

The ad would run in a week, according to Coach Sue's sources.

Santana still couldn't figure out if that amount of time was a blessing or a curse. There were three people who needed to know. Three people who would be hurt the most if that ad ran.

Santana felt the reality of the situation mounting. She found herself starting mental conversations with her parents and her Abuela before she'd even admitted to herself that she was going to tell them. She kept imagining what they would say to her- threading their voices through words of encouragement. Through words of hate.

She couldn't tell which fit better.

The bell for third period rang like a gift. Santana was first up, first out. She pulled out her phone, intending to text Britt and get her to meet her for lunch but she saw she already had a message from her.

_Hey bbe, can you make it to the auditorium at the beginning of lunch?_

Santana frowned down at her phone, instantly suspicious. She'd made Brittany swear that she wouldn't get into league with Finn and join in on his ridiculous lesson.

Brittany hadn't text back to her "why?" so Santana reluctantly headed for the auditorium, wondering if she ought to have brought her pepper spray along- just in case Finn tried to sit her down and decided to sing something by Tegan and Sara.

When she opened the doors at the very top of the auditorium her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness. The flow of empty seats yawned around her and she thought at first that it was empty but then she caught sight of dim figures walking back and forth across the stage.

Prepared for an ambush, maybe a Kurt with a rainbow colored sack and a bedazzled cattle prod, Santana took the stairs slowly, squinting down to the stage. She could make out three stools set up in the centre and off to one side of them a desk with a laptop and a projector had been set up. Santana stopped three quarters of the way down as she spotted Artie roll himself across to the laptop, plug in a cord and click something. Then suddenly, the blank wall at the back of the stage bloomed with light, and showed a projected version of the computers desk top. It's wallpaper was Lord Tubbington on Santana's lap- ten times magnified.

Santana frowned at the projection, wondering why on earth Brittany's computer was being used. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone on the stage do a double take and raise a hand, beckoning her forth. Santana looked properly and recognised Mike.

"Santana!" He called, bounding off the stage and up the stairs towards her. "Have a seat here, front row." Santana followed him suspiciously down the stairs.

"What's all this about? Where's Brittany?" She asked when they stopped at a seat he was pointing out for her. Mike placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down into her seat.

"She's just back stage- won't be long." He dropped down into the chair beside her. "So Santana, how's your day been?"

"Cut the crap Chang. Go get Brittany," she snapped.

Mike opened his moth to protest but they both were distracted as a spot light dropped it's beam onto the stage. Artie was positioned beside a microphone stand, holding the mic in his hands. Mike slipped out of his seat and crept up to the stage, disappearing in the wings. Santana's stomach knotted.

Artie grinned down at her and, in his best announcers voice, called, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present... Miss Brrritttannnyyy Piiierrccee!"

Artie held out and arm and Santana followed it to the side of the stage where she made out the dim outline of Brittany walking towards the spotlight. Artie set the mic back on the stand and rolled back towards the laptop, letting Brittany step into the light.

When she did, Santana felt her breath leave her. Brittany had changed out of her Cheerios uniform and wore a dark blue dress- simple, short- with material that shimmered in the glare. Her hair hung loose- a straight slash of blonde that scattered over the tops of her shoulders.

Santana stared upwards, taking her in. Those legs that seemed heaven bound and eyes all their own shade of blue.

Smiling abashedly at Santana, Brittany stepped up to the microphone stand, adjusting it up to her height. In one hand Santana noticed Brittany clutching something. It looked like a pack of cards.

_Magic tricks?_ Santana thought wildly. With Brittany, anything was possible.

When the stand was the right height Brittany took a breath and looked back at Santana.

"Hello," she spoke shyly into the microphone. Santana smiled a smile she couldn't stop and wiggled her fingers in wave.

"Santana," she said in a breathy voice- almost as though she was reminding herself of something or tucking the sound of Santana's name under her tongue to savour it.  
>"I know that you made me promise not to join in on Finn's lesson because you were convinced that he was related to Big Bird and wanted to lure me into his van. And we both know that I have a fundamental distrust of <em>anyone <em>related to Big Bird. And…" Brittany faltered and then dropped her eyes to her hand. "Oh," she murmured to herself and opened her fist up so that she could see the cards properly.

_Cue cards. _Santana realised, with a tug of fondness. Brittany's forehead crinkled as she flipped through the cards, trying to catch up with herself.

"...so...so...Oh. Okay," Brittany had found her place. "So because you didn't want me to join in on Finn's lesson, but didn't specify the… definition...of 'join in', I've decided that it is within the rules for me to hold a lesson of my own." Brittany looked up at this point, changing her card as she did so.  
>"One of the things that I love about you," she continued, glancing back down at her hand, "is that you stand up and fight for the things that you believe in. Whether it be your ongoing quest to be the sole Captain of the Cheerios or the continuation of Breadstix 'unlimited free bread sticks policy'. Or the people you love. I know this because you've always fought for me."<p>

Brittany's expression turned solemn as her eyes caught Santana's.

"But what makes me sad is that you don't fight for yourself. Because you don't believe in yourself. Not deep down where you keep your true feelings. And I see you hurting everyday because we as a society have been taught that you have to be _the right kind _of different to be considered special. My lesson for you today is to help show you that that is not true."

Brittany paused and nodded to Artie who double clicked a power point icon on her desktop. At the back of the stage, a photograph spun theatrically onto the screen. Santana bit back a laugh.

"Meet Gandalf the Grey," Brittany gestured up at the screen as she read off her cue cards. "The wizard who played an in-integral role in helping Frodo destroy Sauron's ring. He was portrayed in the movie trilogy by Sir Ian McKellen, who is considered one of the best British actors of his generation. He is gay."

Brittany changed cards as the photo of Gandalf dissolved behind her and was replaced by another very familiar wizard.

"This is Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Before he died, Professor Dumbledore was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He was also considered by most to be the most powerful wizard in the world. It was because of his tireless effort, including giving his own life, that Harry Potter was able to save the wizarding world and defeat Lord Voldemort. As if the LGBT community didn't have enough magic with Gandalf, they have Dumbledore too. J.K. Rowling confirmed in an interview that she'd always considered Dumbledore to be gay."

The screen changed again as Brittany once again flipped cards. This time, two black and white photographs replaced Dumbledore. The two woman in the photographs were beautiful- Golden-age Hollywood, Santana suspected. Their faces were familiar.

"Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich," Brittany said. "Arguably two of the most famous actresses of all time. Both had an affair with the same woman."

The screen morphed once again into a statue of a man's head.

"Alexander the Great. The undefeated leader of the largest empire in the world. He is considered one of the greatest military commanders of all time. The closest relationship of his life was with that of his general and bodyguard Hephaestion. Many historians consider their relationship to have been a romantic one, and bisexuality during Alexander's time was considered normal."

Next on the slideshow was Leonardo Da Vinci. Then Steve Job's replacement as CEO of Apple, Tim Cook, Ellen DeGeneres, 1931 Nobel Peace Prize winner Jane Addams. Then came Adam and Steve - the resident gay penguin couple at Harbin Polar Land in China.

Brittany flipped to her final cue card and the photo of the penguins pin-wheeled away, replaced by a picture of a wet haired Santana, sideways smiling at the camera with her mouth full.

Santana felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment.

She remembered the day it had been taken- during one of their lake trips in the summer. Brittany had just placed a strawberry between her lips and made Santana try to prise it from them with her own lips. This was Santana victorious face that Britt had snuck a picture of.

"Meet Santana Lopez," Brittany said, turning to smile up at the picture. "She's going to go places. She's beautiful, she's special. And when she sees herself the way everyone else does, she'll be just as convinced as I am that she deserves to take her rightful place up there amongst those gay men and women who have changed the world."

Santana could feel her chest constricting with emotion as Brittany, her cue cards abandoned, beamed a smile so wide down at Santana that her eyes were nearly squeezed shut.

"And now, please enjoy a quick recess while we get ready for the second part of out lesson."

Someone back stage dulled the spotlight, throwing the stage once more into dimness. Santana took the opportunity to wipe her face as figures once again began to move around the stage.

When the stage lit up once again, two guys that Santana recognised from the school band were positioned near the back of the stage, behind the stools. Both held acoustic guitars plugged into nearby amps. Brittany was once again at the mic stand, lit by the brightest spotlight. She gripped the stand with one hand and spoke into the mic.

"I found this song and I want to sing it to you today. I hope it makes you feel all the things that I felt when I first heard it. Some very good friends of mine agreed to help me out with it," Brittany gestured to the side stage and Santana watched as Mike and Tina appeared, holding microphones. They sat on the stools a behind Brittany. Artie rolled out after them and took his place beside Mike's stool.

As they settled, Santana drew her eyes back to Brittany, already feeling the emotion mounting.

Under the spotlight, one hand white knuckled on around the microphone, Brittany took a fortifying breath and turned to nod over her shoulder. At her signal the two guitar players began to play. It was a folky tune- and their different chords intertwined with one another- almost like one conversation that was filled with two different, but equally beautiful meanings.

Brittany had her eyes closed, beating her fingers in time to the rhythm, waiting for her cue.

Santana thought she had never seen Brittany look more beautiful until she opened her mouth and began to sing.

_This is the first day of my life.  
><em>_Swear I was born right in the doorway.  
><em>_I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed,  
><em>_They're spreading blankets on the beach._

The others had joined in the song but Santana heard only Brittany. The words seemed to have stuck Santana to her seat. She held her breath, she tried not to blink.

On the first verse, Brittany's eyes had scattered around the auditorium and drifted closed on the odd note as she relaxed into the song.

But at the beginning of the second verse, Brittany dropped her eyes from the back of the auditorium and looked at Santana.

_Yours is the first face that I saw.  
><em>_Think I was blind before I met you.  
><em>_Now I don't know where I am,  
><em>_I don't know where I've been  
><em>_But I know where I want to go._

_And so I thought I'd let you know  
><em>_That these things take forever  
><em>_I especially am slow  
><em>_But I realize that I need you  
><em>_And I wondered if I could come home._

Santana began to cry. But they weren't her scared tears. They weren't her hurt tears, they weren't her angry tears.

They were her _moved _tears. Her Brittany tears. She cried as the music swelled around her. But she did not screw up her face to chase them away or block them out or hide them. She just let them be while she watched Brittany sing to her.

When the song drifted to a close, there was a moment of electrified silence and then Santana remembered to clap. The sounds her hands made against one another were a pathetic response to what she'd just witnessed. But then, she reasoned, most things would have been. As she clapped the others seemed to melt to the wings, leaving only Brittany who left the mic stand and jumped down off the stage to stand shyly in front of Santana's chair.

On shaky legs, Santana rose and exhaled.

"I don't know what to say after that," she admitted shakily, sniffing.

Brittany looked fondly into her face, brushing a hand down Santana's cheek to catch a tear.

"It's okay," she murmured. "You don't-"

But Brittany had to stop because Santana stepped forwards and cupped her face in her hands, catching the rest of her sentence in a kiss.

As their mouths opened against one another Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany, pressing them together. She kissed Brittany without caring that they were at school, or that the others were probably still at the side of the stage.

She kissed Brittany and felt for the first time this week free of hesitation. Free of doubt.


	15. Family

**Note: **

**Hey guys. Here's part 2 of the 2 chapters dealing with the _I Kissed A Girl. _**

**It was a difficult chapter, and I hope you guys like it.**

**I say this every time but thank you all so, so much for reviewing and stuff. So many awesome and interesting things being said and I appreciate and consider every one of them.**

**I don't really have much to say about this chapter- like explaining wise... It's muddled my head because I've chopped and changed it more than any other chapter so far. I guess because there was so much left out of the actual episode and it was hard to pick out which themes I should explore further. **

**If you have any questions about how I did things please feel free to ask! **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 15: Family<strong>

**Santana:**

"Lopez!" Santana had been heading absently for her locker when she heard her name being called. Her thoughts were all spun out along the day she'd just had and she blinked herself back to the present, frowning around the empty corridor.  
>Then her name was called again and she spotted Coach Sue through the glass walls of her office.<p>

"In here. I want a word."

Hesitantly, Santana doubled back down the hallway to stand in Coach Sue's office doorway.

"Coach?"  
>Not glancing up from the map on her desk, Coach Sue jerked her hand towards the chairs opposite.<p>

"Have a seat."  
>Figuring she had no other option, Santana walked carefully across the office and sunk down into one of them. She wrinkled her nose, smelling gasoline.<p>

Coach Sue had glanced up and caught her expression. "Oh, don't be alarmed by the smell. I'm just soaking Burt Hummel's flannel shirts."

"Oh, right." Santana nodded, trying to keep her discomfort in check.  
>"Look, Coach, if this is about the gravel I put in Becky's protein shake yesterday I feel that I have to point out that the bitch deserved it. She put <em>mud <em>in mine."

Coach waved a hand dismissively.  
>"Oh I don't really want to get into whatever twisted, food-based foreplay you girls engage in. Contrary to popular belief, the things you ingest really don't interest me. Unless of course it's complex-carbohydrates, in which case you shall receive a letter from my lawyer informing you of your pending deportation from this country, following a violation of paragraph 15, section 7 of your Cheerio's contract."<p>

Coach Sue steepled her fingers and brought them up under her chin.  
>"I called you in here to ask you how you are," she said, looking steadily at Santana.<br>Santana blinked in amazement.

"You've never cared how I was before," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Why does it matter now? Do you know something I don't? Is this about the ad?"

Coach sighed, placing her pen down and removing her glasses.

"I still haven't been able to locate the film reels of said ad," she said bitterly. "That's what this map is for. I'm plotting the coordinates for possible locations of Salazar's advertising bunker."

"…that's a map of Liechtenstein…" Santana pointed out.

"Mmm, well toots, you never can be too careful." Coach swept her hand across the map, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Which leads me to my next point of order: what's your plan, S?"

"Plan for what?"  
>Coach Sue tilted her head.<p>

"Your plan about how you are going to get through the fact that your thin veil of heterosexuality is about to be steamrolled by this ad, exposing you in all your glorious sexual deviance. Jesus's words, not mine," She added, holding up her hands.

Santana looked down in her lap.  
>"I guess I don't have one." She mumbled.<p>

Coach Sue tossed her head to the side in disbelief.  
>"Oh come on, Sand-bags. You're a smart girl. You've learnt manipulation, tactical excellence and a tinge of sadism under my very own hand. And yet here you are, about to face challenges that people twice your age would struggle with, telling me you haven't got a plan?"<p>

Santana stared at Coach Sue, her eyebrows twitching in a frown. She tears were building- hot in the back of her eyes.  
>"I-I don't...I haven't decided yet."<p>

"Ah," Coach tilted her chin upwards, her eyes darting across Santana's face. "You're a bit lost."

"Uhuh. A bit," Santana admitted.

"Well, you can sing lady songs till your blue in the face and have three extra vaginas, but it won't change the way this is going to go down. So, do you mind if I add a dash of Sue flavoured genius to the cocktail of predictably useless advice sloshing around in your head?"

Santana shook her head wearily. "Be my guest."

Coach Sue nodded, placing her palms flat on her desk and leaning towards Santana.

"As I see it, you have two possible situations that you need to choose between. The first begins when your family see the ad, and believe me- they _will _see it- even the ones running drug cartels in Mexico. And when they ask you about it- you will lie. You will pretend you know nothing. You will lie for all you're worth- until you can't remember where the truth went, only that it left you a long time ago.

"And then," Coach twisted her lips to the side grimly, "the paranoia will set in. You'll avoid public bathrooms in case you succumb to your urges and take a peak under the stall dividers. You'll clear your browser history as regularly as Emma Pillsbury clips her stray tooth brush bristles. You'll turn into a shivering mess during the annual increase of rainbows in springtime Ohio."

Coach Sue leaned forward, her eyes boring into Santana's.

"And then," she said softly, "your parents will begin to question your relationship with Brittany. And you will lie and tell them she's just a friend. And by then, you may have become such a convincing liar that Brittany, bless her, starts to believe you too. And you only need to watch any angsty teen drama from the early 2000s to know where things will go from there."

Santana found it hard to swallow against the lump in her throat.  
>"Or," Coach Sue shrugged, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms behind her head, "you can choose door number two. You can go home today and sit your parents down, take a deep breath, and tell them who you are. You can let them know you. You can warn them about the ad. You can tell them that you've never been more scared in your life.<br>"Telling the truth is never easy. And it comes with its own unique kind of pain. But it's the only real thing. And, S, chances are your parents will get angry. But maybe not at you. Maybe at me. Maybe at themselves. _Hopefully _at Salazar. Your father's a doctor, right?"

"Uhuh," Santana nodded.

"Good," Coach Sue leant forwards and banged her fist on the table, making Santana jump. "He can sue him for everything he has until he ends up a broken man who puts pigeons on leashes and gets his nutrients from eating his own fingernails."

Coach got up off her chair and wandered around her desk, trailing her hand across the map. "If I could make this better for you Santana, I would." She propped herself up on the edge of the desk, looking down into Santana's face.  
>"No one deserves to have this happen to them. Apart from Will Schuster. Oh and that short, fat, orange person who does her hair like Amy Winehouse. But not you. Do I make myself clear?"<p>

Santana nodded, sweeping the back of her hand across her cheeks to catch the tears.

"Good. Now get out of my office. The carpet in here was shipped from Peru and the natural salt in your tears will cause the color to weaken. Out."

* * *

><p>She stood in the doorway for Brittany's room and watched her lay on her bed. She was turned onto her tummy, looking down at an exercise book. Her legs swayed aimlessly above the rest of her body. Her hair was flipped carelessly over to one side of her head, all tucked behind one ear. But it kept slipping across her face no matter how often she tucked it back.<p>

Santana didn't get how Brittany could surprise her every day. Surely Santana thought, she'd be used to all these feelings by now- the feeling of being plunged into warm water when she saw Brittany. Or the feeling of being legitimately concerned about the muscles in her cheeks because, shit, she just couldn't help but grin all wide and stupid. And Britt doesn't even have to be looking at her to make it happen. She can be just laying on her bed, not even seeing Santana, humming to herself.

Santana recognised the tune- Finn's stripped down version of Girls Just Want to Have Fun.

"I'd have picked you to prefer the original," she said from the doorway. Brittany jumped, snapping her head around to look at Santana.

"What are you doing here?" Brittany grinned, backing up off the bed.

Santana held up the brown paper bag in her hand.

"I got Thai and," she held up a bottle of Rosé.

Brittany approached her with a quizzical smile. "Date night isn't till next week though."

"Oh, okay. Well, guess I'll just take this back then," Santana made a move towards the door but Brittany reached out to stop her.

"No, no. Are you crazy? Come back here," she said, tugging Santana forwards by the forearm and planting a kiss on her cheek. Santana smirked.

"That's more like it." She let Brittany tug her over to the bed and put the Thai and wine on the bedside table so she could stretch across to scratch Lord Tubbington.

"Hey, LT," she murmured. She noticed the exercise book that Brittany had been writing in near her leg.

"The Conspiracy around Conspiracy Theories- an opinion piece by Brittany S. Pierce," Santana read aloud.

"Oh, that's for English," Brittany explained. "I don't have much but can you proof read it while I get cups and forks?"

Santana settled back into Brittany's pillows and picked up the paper and pen, one hand absentmindedly stroking Lord Tubbington's head.

"So," Brittany started when she arrived back and had sat down cross legged at the end of her bed. "What's the special occasion?"

Santana looked up at her, the words swelling in her chest sort of felt like pride.

"Well, I told my parents today after school."

"No way," Brittany was looking at her in awe, her mouth half open and her eyes bright and wide. "Are you serious? For real?"

"Uhuh," Santana nodded and laughed as Brittany pumped her fist in the air.

"Yuss! Yuss, yuss, yuss!" She exclaimed, bobbing up and down on the bed enough to make Lord Tubbington flatten his ears and tense his claws against the blanket.

Then suddenly Brittany stilled, her grin faltering. "Wait...you're not here because they kicked you out, right?"

Santana shook her head.

"And- and you told them _everything_?"

"Everything," Santana nodded. "They were both home when I got back from school and they never usually are so I took it as a sign and...and well, yeah. They were...they accepted it all. Apart from the bit about the ad," Santana shook her head. "Phew, that was not pretty."

"I bet," Brittany said grimly. There was a pause and Santana watched as, despite herself, Brittany's face stretched into a slow, wide smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. Then, with a squeal that sent Lord Tubbington wobbling off the bed in panic, Brittany launched herself towards Santana, practically bowling her backwards against the headboard.

"Britt…" she managed, laughing as her face was jammed into Brittany's shoulder. Brittany's arms were around Santana's neck, and her boobs had rested themselves against Santana's collarbones. Santana knew that she was going to lose her appetite for anything but Brittany if they didn't disengage soon.

"Get off, get off," she laughed, pushing her hands against Brittany's hip bones. Brittany however, clung on tightly.

"I'm so, so, so, so, so, _so _proud of you. I'm prouder of you than I've ever been of anyone in my whole life."

Santana hooked her chin over Brittany's shoulder and wrapped her arms around her back, suddenly not ready to have Brittany pull away.

"My little unicorn is all grown up," Brittany murmured.

"Okay seriously, get off now," Santana laughed, pushing again against her hips.

Brittany reluctantly shifted off Santana and sat back up, her pony tail ridiculously askew. Fondly, Santana reached up and tugged it back into place.

"Shall we eat then?" she asked.

Brittany hesitated, looking over at the wine.

"How about some of that first?" Santana raised her eyebrow at the suggestiveness in Brittany's tone and reached for the bottle.

"Where are your parents?" She asked- trying to sound casual as she peeled the foil off the top of the bottle.

"At my grandparents place for a couple of nights. They both took time off work to go to some garden convention thing." Brittany shrugged.

"Hey, is that the one that tastes like alcoholic strawberries?" She asked, watching Santana ease the cork off. Once it had popped Santana held the bottle up to Brittany's nose.

"Smell and see for yourself."

Brittany's hand closed around the neck of the bottle and she pulled it away from Santana's grasp, tilting her head back to take a large gulp.

"Classy," Santana laughed as Brittany swallowed awkwardly, holding a hand up to her nose.

"The bubbles make me want to sneeze. But yep, as I suspected," she smacked her lips and held the bottle up to look at the label, "drunk strawberries."

"It'll be drunk Brittany if you're not careful," Santana pointed out, watching Brittany take her second swig.

"What's so bad about that? You like drunk Brittany."

Santana took the bottle off Brittany and tilted it to her own lips. It was good- top shelf shit from her parent's collection.

The mattress jostled as Brittany wiggled further up the bed. Santana looked at her over the raised bottle, still swallowing the wine down. When she was done she handed it back to Brittany, enjoying the light haze of alcohol that was bubbling up to her brain.

They passed the bottle back and forth until it was three quarters gone. By then, Santana had nestled herself further back against Brittany's pillows. Her thoughts had been comfortably dulled by the rapid intake of wine and it left room for her to just sit and take Brittany in.

Brittany, who was in the mood for dancing.

She'd gotten up off the bed and swayed over to where her iPod was docked in her speakers, bending over and purposefully wiggling her bum as she chose a song. Santana grinned, gladly letting herself look.

As an R'n'B beat swelled from the speakers, Brittany spun on her heel and beckoned to Santana.

"Come here and dance."

"Come get me," Santana teased.

Brittany raised her eyebrows. "Ohh, so that's how this is going to go down?"

"You tell me," Santana challenged, notching her chin up and smirking as Brittany gave in, sauntering over and kneeling upright at the end of the mattress. She beckoned Santana forwards.

Huffing a theatrical sigh, Santana shuffled over on her knees. When she was within arm's reach Brittany threaded hers around Santana's waist, pulling their hips flush up against one another. With one hand on Santana's lower back, guiding her, Brittany swung her hips from side to side, taking Santana's along with her.  
>Arousal parted Santana's lips and she closed her eyes to feel Brittany against her more fully. When she opened them again she saw Brittany's lips upturned in a small, satisfied smile.<p>

"You're not hungry are you?" Santana asked.

Brittany shrugged, flicking her eyes to the Thai.

"I will be later."

"Mmm?" Santana watched smugly as Brittany's eyes drifted down to her lips.

"Mmm," Brittany echoed faintly.

Brittany's lips tasted like vanilla. But her tongue was all wine- hot and sweet with that alcoholic bite. Santana wanted to kiss her forever. She wanted all of her. She wanted it now. She just couldn't get close enough.

Frustrated, blind with arousal, Santana flipped Brittany onto her back, tugging roughly at her t-shirt. Once it was off she lowered her lips hungrily to Brittany's rolling stomach, to the dips on the insides of her hipbones and back up to the pink lace of her bra.

Brittany, breathing roughly, twisted her hands around her back and removed it so that Santana could get her lips against her bare breasts. Shivering as she felt the soft weight of them in her palms, Santana lowered her face to suck hotly at one nipple and then at another- spurred on by Brittany's stiffened fingers in her hair.

In a blur, Santana removed the rest of Brittany's clothing and then her own until they were naked against one another, moving their mouths and hands haphazardly.

"Santana...just…oh…" Brittany's voice faltered and morphed into a groan as Santana's fingers trailed across her folds. "I-I want…" She started, breathing hard.

Santana came up to look at Brittany's face.

"Decime lo que quieres baby?" she whispered.

Brittany kissed her then, forcefully- her tongue climbing against Santana's. When she broke away they were both out of breath and Santana could see an unusual intensity in Brittany's eyes.

She rolled out from underneath Santana, not breaking eye contact, and shifted so that she was kneeling in between Santana's legs. Still not looking away from Santana's face, Brittany placed her palms against Santana's knees and fanned her fingers out, sliding them slowly down her thighs.

Santana felt her chest constrict as they inched further in between her legs. She tilted her head back, and closed her eyes- the anticipation too much.

Then, the breath was snatched from her throat and she gasped, jerking her head upright to see back down her body. Brittany's hands remained spread out across Santana's thighs but her body was lowered to the mattress and her head was in between Santana's legs. It was Brittany's tongue, gentle and hot, that was exploring her.

Santana froze, not knowing what to do. The panic and the pleasure clashed inside of her. Her breathing staggered as she felt Brittany's tongue sweep and curl up around her sensitive nerve endings. Her hair was tickling softly at the inside of Santana's thighs, her palms pressing down- keeping them apart.

Santana gaped wordlessly at the ceiling. This had never happened before- Santana had never let it. The only times anyone had ever done this to her was when she'd been too drunk to protest- and it had been Puck which hardly counted because he'd treated her like a double-scoop waffle cone .

But this. Santana's mouth opened, but all that happened was her hips jarred harder against Brittany's face.

And then, when Santana thought it couldn't get any better, Brittany slipped her fingers inside of her.

Santana must have cried out- she must have, because when she opened her eyes again, panting through the pleasure, Brittany's face was above her own, furrowed with worry.

"Did I hurt you?" She whispered.

"No, no," Santana shook her head, her whole body tensed at the fact that Brittany's fingers were still inside her. Santana swept the stray bits of hair back that had stuck to Brittany's face and then snaked her arms around Brittany's body, shivering at the feel of her soft skin. She nuzzled her face into Brittany's neck and kissed it.

Hesitantly, Brittany began to move inside of her again, curling her fingers upwards. Hitting right _there_.

Santana felt her muscles go jelly and stone all at the same time. Every nerve was bound to Brittany's movements. She didn't know whether she was blacking out or seeing stars but Santana lost herself in the rhythm.

And then she wasn't in her body and everything was rushing around her and she thought of a Floo Powder ride on Harry Potter and how she must tell Brittany because she'd be proud of her for thinking that and, oh, oh god she must have drunk too much because…

Her arms were boa constrictors around Brittany's shoulders. Her nails scrambled for purchase against Brittany's skin. Brittany's hair was across her face, her lips were at her neck and Santana's insides were gripping her fingers with all the strength she never knew she had.

She drew back like a wave. Back, back, back until she became all rush and fury and force so that her body collided with Brittany's and for several, long, flexing seconds it was only them in the whole world.

They washed up amidst the wreckage of Brittany's sheets, hot and sweating and breathing jaggedly into one another's faces.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Brittany<span>:**

The first impression Brittany had of real life through her sleep was a heavy warmth on her chest. And then she thought she could feel someone kneading one of her boobs. Keeping her eyes closed, Brittany mumbling Santana a good morning, pouting her lips for a kiss.

Something warm and rough as sandpaper caught the bottom of her chin. Brittany smelt tuna and wrinkled her nose. Opening her eyes and blinking back the haziness she tried to see what Santana was doing.

Lord Tubbington blinked lazily back at her. Then, yawning, he shifted his bulk around to settle more comfortably on her chest. His paws where still kneading her boob and Brittany felt a tinge of pain as one of his claws dug through her t-shirt.

"Oh, hey Tubs," She murmured, scratching him behind his ears. The cat bumped his head up harder against her palm and began to purr as loudly as an idling 747.

Brittany glanced warily across the bed at Santana, checking that the noise hadn't disturbed her. Santana was lying on her tummy with her faced turned away from Brittany. Her limbs were sprawled carelessly around the bed and her breathing was deep and even. Brittany smiled fondly across at her.

"Isn't she cute Lord T?" Brittany whispered. H purred louder to answer and Brittany frowned, pushing a finger against his nose to shush him.

This seemed to irk him and he stretched away from her, digging claws into her ribs as he maneuvered himself up and off of her, heading across the bed towards Santana.

Brittany leant over and wrapped her arms around his belly, capturing him before he clawed his way onto Santana's back. She heaved him back across herself and deposited him down on the floor beside her bed, jostling the mattress as she struggled with his weight.

Beside her, Santana's sleepy breathing pattern broke and Brittany heard her inhale sharply into consciousness. Careful not to disturb the mattress anymore, Brittany rolled slowly on her side to face Santana's back, hoping she'd turn around for snuggles.

Sighing, Santana shifted to lie on her back, rubbing her eyes and blinking at the ceiling. Then she looked across and caught Brittany looking at her.

"Good morning," she mumbled, stretching out an arm and snaking it under Brittany's neck. Brittany rolled in closer to her, pressing her face into Santana's neck and inhaling the sleep musk of her skin.  
>"Sorry I woke you up, I was trying to save you from Lord Tubbington."<p>

Santana's body went taunt as she stretched. "That's okay, probably time we get up anyway. You nervous?"

Brittany frowned. "To get up?"

"No, the elections are today, remember?"  
>With everything that had happened, Brittany hadn't remembered. She suddenly felt all funny- like that time she had too many turns on the teacup ride.<p>

"Now that I've remembered, I am," she admitted.

"Don't be," Santana hugged her closer, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "You have this in the bag. Kurt's running against you- I mean, there's you're winning advantage right there."

"Kurt's a good guy though," Brittany reasoned.

"He's alright." Santana's shrug made Brittany's head bob up and down. "Bit of a stretch calling him a guy though."  
>Brittany aimlessly traced a finger across the lettering on the chest of Santana's Lebanese t-shirt, thinking about the election. She wondered if voting would be like on Survivor and if she and Kurt would get fire torches.<br>_The tribe has spoken._

Brittany's bedroom was suddenly filled with a rumbling that was even louder than Lord Tubbington's purring. She and Santana both jumped.

"What the hell is that?" Santana asked, sitting up and looking around. Brittany twisted to her bedside table, picking up her spasming phone.

"It's Rachel calling," she frowned, holding up the phone so Santana could see the name flashing on the screen.

"Jesus don't answer it," Santana said, wrinkling her nose.

"She never calls though…" Brittany hesitated and then with an apologetic look at Santana, she hit the answer button.

"Hello, this is Brittany speaking," She said.

"Y-yes. Hello Brittany. How are you this morning?"

"Fine."

"Okay. I'm glad to hear that. I-I was wondering if perhaps Santana was with you."

Brittany glanced across at Santana, who was watching her with her eyebrows slung low over her eyes.  
>"I'm not sure I can disclose that information," Brittany answered.<p>

"Oh okay. Well, speaking hypothetically…If she was would I be able to talk to her? I would have called her phone but she told me that if I ever did she would give my details to homeland security." Brittany glanced across at Santana again.

"She wants to talk to you," she mouthed.

"Good God," Santana muttered. She reached across and snatched the phone from Brittany's hand.

"Oh, okay, bye Rachel…" Brittany called as the phone passed her face.

"_What," _Santana snapped into the phone.

"Loudspeaker," Brittany mouthed.

Nodding, Santana drew the phone away and hit the loud speaker button. Rachel's voice, mid-sentence, erupted from the speaker- "So then she agreed and said…"

"Hold on, hold on. Start again."

"Well, I've been at school for two hours now, helping Kurt set up his pre-election final campaign push, and whilst I was in the girls' bathroom adding Kurt-themed paper towels to the dispenser I had one of my caffeine inspired brain waves. All us girls should do a number for lady week! Now, I've already contacted Mercedes and Tina and they got in touch with Quinn and Sugar and they are all on board. So all you and Brittany have to do is say yes."

Brittany exchanged a look with Santana, wondering if she should have put Brittany themed things around the school too. Like chalk. And cafeteria trays. She felt even worse about the elections now.

Santana squeezed her arm.  
>"<em>Losers," <em>she mouthed, rolling her eyes.

"Berry, as much as I hate you, the idea of the number does sound okay. Depending which song it is and if I get the solo."

There was a beep.

"It's Mercedes," Rachel said. "I'm going party line."

"Did you get hold of Santana?" Mercedes voice sounded. "I called her phone but it's off."

"We're on party line Wheezy. Britt and I."

"Oh, cool, hey guys!"

Mercedes made Brittany a little more cheerful. "Hey!" She called into the speaker.

"So, you guys like the I Kissed a Girl idea?" Mercedes asked.

"I Kissed a Girl?" Santana laughed down at Brittany. "That's subtle."

"That was my idea," Mercedes laughed. "Thought it would be funny."

"Are we going to kiss each other?" Brittany asked. "Because if that's the plan I dibs Santana."  
>She grinned as Santana flicked her eyes down at her, smirking.<p>

"Uh-n-no Brittany. I have a boyfriend," Rachel reminded her.

"No, you have a Sea Cow." Santana corrected.

"So you like the song choice?" Mercedes prompted. Santana raised her eyebrows at Brittany who shrugged. It was really Santana's choice. It was old news that Brittany kissed girls and liked it. But she preferred the taste of the Berry Jelly Donut flavoured chapstick to the Cherry one.

"Britts and I are in. Are we soloing this shit Cedes?"

"A-actually," Rachel cut over Mercedes, "I thought seeing as it was my idea to do a number in first place that I would share the solo with you Santana."

"I'll just let Rachel have this one," Mercedes said. "Got to throw her a bone before she loses at Sectionals next week."

"Urgh. Alright. Just please, dear god don't make too much eye contact with me."

"Right, okay good." Rachel said briskly. "I guess I'll see you and Brittany soon when you two arrive to prep for the election. I've just finished wooing Lenny the groundskeeper with orange flavoured jelly so that he'd vote for Kurt."  
>Brittany's tummy felt like it was tied in one of those elaborate sailors knots. She glanced at Santana who was looking at the phone in disgust.<p>

"We don't have a groundskeeper called Lenny," Mercedes pointed out.

"You probably just wasted all your efforts on Stiffy Steve- the resident lurker outside the girls changing room windows. Great campaign strategy Berry." Santana said. "And just by the way, we don't need to do any last minute campaigning," she continued, her eyes locked reassuringly on Brittany's. "Together Britts and I have probably slept with 75% of the people voting today."

"And sex beats orange jelly any day," Brittany pointed out.

* * *

><p><strong>Santana<strong>**:**

Santana felt drunk. All her senses had warped- she was aware of her head jerking as she walked- but not of the ground beneath her. That was until she hit the grassy verge that separated the pavement from the roadside. She stumbled as her heels sank into the soften earth.

Her body gave her two slow, curdling seconds of nausea as a pre-vomit warning. Then she was doubled over, retching and coughing it onto the grass.  
>She was making a lot of noise and imagined all her Abuela's neighbours crowded at their windows, watching her through the gaps in their curtains.<p>

It would be their first inkling of the scandal.

Wiping her mouth with a shaking hand, Santana raised her eyes to the dark shape of her Abuela's house.

It was a house Santana had known all her life. She couldn't think about her childhood without the image of the place being dragged along in tow.

She remembered playing Blind Mans Bluff in the back yard with her cousins. Helping her Abuela pick up the pears that had fallen off the tree in case they burst under the lawn mower. And the special room- the third door down the hallway where Abuela kept all the special things- like her collection of stiff faced Spanish dolls and Abuelo's war magazines. And his piano- dormant since the year he'd died.

Santana stood there in the dark, glaring up at the room's black windows, amazed at how one incident could wipe the slate clean of good memories. When she looked at up at this house she no longer felt a tie there. Santana knew if she ever went back she'd only feel what she was feeling right now. She'd only hear again what her Abuela had said to her.

_I never want to see you again._

She bent back towards the ground, taking slow steadying breaths to repel another rise of nausea.

A light switched on nearby and Santana jerked her head up, a hand clamped over her mouth. Something had triggered the security sensor light down the side of her Abuela's house. Santana could see moths darting around it, casting warping shadows across the illuminated concrete.

Santana squinted, her heart in her mouth, waiting to see if her Abuela would appear. But the concrete path stayed empty and after a moment, the light clicked off. Santana was plunged back into darkness.

In accordance with her Abuela's rules, Santana had left her phone in the car before she'd gone inside. It was buzzing in the cavity of her centre console when she slid back into the car.

Britt Britt: _I know your phone is in your car but don't worry, I know to aim my good luck vibes through the back door because your Abuela always keeps the front one locked._

Santana closed her eyes and leant back against the head rest. She felt stilled by in an odd, icy calm.

After a while, she looked back down at her phone in her hand and clicked 'reply' to Brittany's last text.

_Done here. On my way over now._

* * *

><p><strong>Brittany<strong>**:**

"Na-uh," Brittany swatted Finn's hand away from the bowl of Amped Apple & Lightning Lemon flavoured Nerds. "Those are Santana's remember? We're…"

"We're waiting for her to get here, yeah, yeah. You told me that when I tried to have a carrot stick."

"The nerds and the carrot sticks and the Diet Dr Pepper, the pita chips, the Ricotta dip and also the coffee flavoured wafer straws are Santana's favourite snacks and we can't eat them till she arrives."

Finn nodded, turning glumly away.  
>"Hey, but!" Brittany grabbed his arm, putting on her best enthusiastic voice. "There is still Kurt and Blaine's block of old cheese and Rachel's tofu sausage rolls to eat."<br>Finn didn't look enthused.  
>"The sausage rolls taste like feet. But there are ways to be okay with that," Brittany assured him.<p>

"I'll see how that goes for me…Thanks Britt," He said, edging around the table looking pensively at the sausage rolls.

"Hey Britt," Rory and Tina sidled up to her. They had matching Cheshire cat grins.

"We both just wanted to congratulate you," Tina said in a low voice.

"Yeah, we got a sneak peak at tomorrow's daily notices and saw the Senior President Winner announcement," Rory smiled.

Brittany smiled gratefully back at them. "Thanks guys. But you guys have to make sure you don't tell anyone because I don't want to see Kurt being a sad unicorn for any longer than he has to."

Tina frowned. "He _cheated _Britt. It's not cool. I'm glad you won." _  
>"Word." Rory said.<em>  
>Tina shot him a look.<p>

"What? Is that not the right way to say it?" He frowned.

"Don't say that again okay?" Brittany patted Rory's arm and moved past them, sneaking a finger against her lips as a reminder.

She approached the living room window where Sugar was perched on the windowsill, drinking juice with Brittany's curly Miss Piggy straw. Her face was so close to the window glass that her nose was smooshed against it.  
>"You can only see the second star to the right from the spare bedroom window," Brittany said helpfully.<p>

"Huh?" Sugar jerked her head around, the straw stuck to her bottom lip. "I'm not star gazing. That's what mirrors are for. I'm on Santana Lookout Duty." She said, puffing her chest out importantly.

"Oh…"

"Yeah. Mercedes gave me the job. She said it was so important that I couldn't talk to anyone so ta-ta," Sugar flicked her fingers at Brittany and resumed drinking, pressing her face once more to the window.

"Britt, your phone!" Artie, Mercedes and Blaine chorused. Brittany turned to see them pointing to the coffee table, where Brittany's phone was receiving a text.

Brittany picked up her phone and saw it was from Santana. Her tummy went tight with nerves, even though she was 87.6 per cent sure that Santana's Abuela would be okay with what Santana had to tell her. Brittany had met her once and she'd liked the fact that she had Santana's laugh. And also that she'd shown Brittany how to roll her burrito so that she didn't lose half the filling out the bottom.

Mike turned the stereo down so that Brittany could read the text out loud.

"Done here. On my way over now." Brittany looked up from her phone frowning.

"Is that meant to be a happy text?" Rory asked.

"I don't know." Brittany glanced at Mercedes and was not comforted by what she saw on her face.

"I'm- I'm sure it's okay." Blaine said. But he looked like his words tasted funny.

"Britt, did you…" Finn paused, shooting Rachel a worried look. Brittany's heart was creeping into her mouth. She looked at Rachel too who was edging closer to her.

"Brittany did you...did you ever consider that maybe it might not go so well? And that if it didn't, Santana might not be… be comfortable with us all being here?"

Brittany went red, panic starting to tingle in her chest. It felt like pins and needles for her insides.  
>"No. Because it will have gone fine." She said, nodding so that everyone knew she was agreeing with herself.<p>

She looked around at the others but they kept on dropping their eyes away from hers. Kurt turned to look out the window nervously.  
>Mercedes walked over and squeezed her shoulder.<br>"It's okay." But that was all she said and suddenly Brittany knew it wasn't okay.

"Should…should I call her?" She asked, her voice all high and funny. The tears were coming. "I don't know what to do…" She admitted.  
>Rachel stepped up to her and took one of her hands.<p>

"Now, now, don't get upset. All you've got to do is meet Santana in the foyer and see how it went. If it was bad just come back and tell us and we'll leave."

Sugar suddenly drew back from the window, her face twitching with an odd mix of terror and excitement.  
>"Guys. Guys. I just saw a car pull up," she whispered theatrically. "I think she's coming."<p>

Brittany felt the room tense. Or maybe her nerves just had their own gravity.  
>Rachel nodded her encouragingly towards the foyer.<p>

Brittany walked out of the lounge, sliding its door closed behind her. She hovered near the shoe rack, listening to the faint tinkle of car keys and the muffled clop of Santana's heels on the concrete.

When opened the door and appear around it, Brittany blinked in confusion because she didn't look like Santana. And then Brittany's insides turned cold as she realised it was because Santana's make-up was in ruins down her face and her eyes were so swollen she could have been beaten up.

Automatically Brittany started towards her, her arms outstretched. Santana backed away from her and the coldness in her look made Brittany stop short.

"Got company?" She asked. Her voice was loaded with something that scared Brittany.

"Yeah because I invited…I invited everyone over to celebrate because I thought…"

"No," Santana lashed her voice over Brittany's. "No, you _didn't _think. That's the problem here."  
>Brittany opened and closed her mouth in panic- until she purchased on Rachel's earlier suggestion.<p>

"I'll- I'll go tell them to go," she backed towards the lounge.

Santana waved her hand, "Oh please. Not on my account. They're obviously the ones you want to spend your time with. And honestly, I don't blame you. Having a girlfriend who has to come out to her family must be so boring. And you're all for fun aren't you, Britt? So please, go and entertain. And hey, this would be a _great _time to test the popularity of your upcoming Topless Tuesday policy."

Brittany stared at Santana, disbelief mounting. She had her Finn voice on- that sarcastic sneer that sometimes made Brittany laugh. But not now.

"What are you talking about? Can you just- can you just slow down and let me explain?"

Santana screwed her face up in disgust, looking Brittany up and down. "Honestly, I don't think I want to hear it. I've heard enough bullshit tonight."

Brittany reached out again, trying to get Santana close enough to calm her down. Santana jerked violently away from her.

"Don't touch me," she sneered.

"Santana!" Mercedes voice rang like a shot across the foyer. It was full of authority.  
>Rachel appeared in the lounge doorway beside her, looking pleadingly at Santana.<p>

"Santana, just, just calm down okay?" She said, raising her hands. "It's not what you think…"

"Don't you frigging _dare_tell me what to do," Santana shouted, her voice cracking. The sound made Brittany jump and the fright jerked tears into her eyes.

"Well _someone_ has to before you do something infinitely stupid." Kurt had arrived in the doorway on the other side of Mercedes.

Santana rounded on him.  
>"<em>What <em>did you just say to me?" Her voice was tilted menacingly. She stepped right up into Kurt's face but it he didn't flinch away.

"That's right, I called you stupid. And with good reason. Sure, Brittany was a bit too eager to celebrate. But she did it _all for you._ If you didn't get that then you deserve to be called stupid."

Brittany held her breath, stealing a glance sideways to catch Santana's reaction. She had backed away from Kurt and closed her mouth. Brittany could see the ripple of tears beneath her stony face.

Rachel must have seen them too because she stepped away from the door way, approaching Santana with her eyes softening.

"I'm- I'm so sorry it went badly."

It took all Brittany's strength to watch Santana's features squeeze together in pain. Rachel stepped forwards and tucked Santana into a hug.

"We are all going to be here for you. That's why we're came here in the first place," she said.

"We hoped it would be to celebrate," Mercedes added, stepping forward as well. "But…either way we know you've been so brave."

Santana stood stiffly in Rachel's arms for a moment and then raised her hands to cover her face. Her shoulders began to shake.

Brittany hovered beside them- not knowing anything. Not knowing what to say or how to get Santana into her arms where Brittany needed her.

Santana dropped her hands and looked over Rachel's shoulder at her. Her expression said she was sorry. Brittany's own face began its fight against her tears.  
>Santana pulled out of Rachel's hug, giving her a grateful nod and stepped up to Brittany. Her mouth opened, quivered, but she didn't get any words out.<br>Brittany guessed she was just trying to apologise so she nodded her head and held out her arms.

It was a small gift when Brittany felt Santana curve into her embrace- leaning so heavily into her that after a beat, Brittany realised she was holding Santana up.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" She mumbled into Santana's hair.  
>"Lounge is okay," Santana said thickly.<p>

Mercedes, Kurt and Rachel lead them back through the door. Brittany saw everyone turn to them- their faces all anxious.

No one said anything or asked any questions. Finn and Artie put down their food, Blaine turned the stereo off and Rory and Sugar got up off the window sill. Tina and Mike vacated the two-seater so that Brittany could sink her and Santana into it.

When they all crowded around her and Santana, Brittany felt like invisible strings had coiled their way from her chest to each one of them. They were all tethered here together by Santana's pain.

They let Santana cry until she was taking juddering breaths and wiping her face. And then she flicked her eyes around them all one by one.  
>"Thank you," she said.<p> 


	16. Hold On To Sixteen

**Sorry I had to upload again because I didn't proofread! (There may still be mistakes and man I really do need a beta).**

**Note: **

**Hello everyone, here's another one! **

**But first things first! Thank you for the reviews- as always you guys have out done yourselves with the encouragement and the advice- all of which I really appreciate.**

** A few people have pointed out that my accent is showing and aaahh I'm really sorry! I wish I could help it but I try my bestest. Perhaps I should get and American beta to help stop any slip ups. Any takers? (I have no idea how having beta works but if you're interested then PM me and enlighten me haha.) But really, I'm sorry if its been annoying. **

**This chapter was a bitch to write, imma be honest. Coming off the groundswell of emotion of the last episode it was hard to figure where to go, seeing as the actual episode this chapter is based on, Hold On To Sixteen, gave us soooo much continuity with Santana's emotional state (I mean srsly wtfff). **

**So I decided to experiment a bit. I though about how the episode was based on growing up but also embracing your youth etc- so I thought it'd be cool to visit a few Brittana memories that then connect into the scenes set in present day (hopefully). **

**It could be awful. It could be okay. I'm not sure and haven't really had time to decide seeing as this is just hot off the press. **

**Oh, and the random lyrics that head up each flash back?- My sad, misguided attempt to fit the flashbacks somehow to the Mellencamp song that the episode is titled after. **

**Woo okay, I'll leave you to it! **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 16: Hold On To Sixteen<strong>

**"let me do what I please"**

_Brittany's goal for the summer was to become the first cheerleader to swim across the Atlantic ocean. Santana had to keep pointing out that she'd probably be the first person to attempt it, let alone cheerleader and how was Brittany expecting to survive when even the Titanic didn't make it? _

_"That's because the Titanic's watertight compartments weren't built high enough so the water overflowed into the other ones," Brittany pointed out. "And I plan on wearing my wetsuit to avoid that happening to me." _

_It was this genius reasoning that had landed Santana on the bank of Lake Winona for the fourth sunny day in a row. She lay, tanning, while Brittany swam back and forth in training. _

_It was, Santana thought, the perfect day today. The warmth of the sun was spread smoothly across Santana's exposed skin- it's bite counteracted by the wafting breeze. That, coupled with the the lapping of the water nearby made Santana's limbs heavy and her eyelids creep over her eyes. Up until then she had made a point of sitting up once in a while and looking over the rim of her glasses to make sure she could still see Brittany swimming fluidly in the distance- but she was losing the battle with drowsiness now and sleep was beginning to unfurl it's sails around her. _

_Santana gave in, letting her heavy eyelids go. _

_It was one of those times where you close your eyes for what feels like a split second and when you open them everything has changed._

_When she came back to consciousness, the first thing Santana noticed was that she was wet. And not in a good way. There was also a heavy pressure on her hips- someone was sitting on her. _

_Brushing drips of water off her neck and cheeks, she blinked open her eyes._

_Blearily, she recognised Brittany's face above her own, angled so she could peer past the shadows of Santana's glasses. Her hair had been turned dark blond and ropy from the water. Droplets were blooming at the ends of the strands and scattered across Santana's cheeks, forehead, the lenses of her glasses and her towel._

_"Get off me, you're soaking Britt. Where's your towel? What are you doing?" _

_Brittany ignored her, bending closer.  
><em>_"I have a secret to tell you."_

_Santana placed her hands on Brittany's upper legs and used them as leverage to sit up so that her face was level with Brittany's water flecked chest- and the pink cups of her bikini. _She smelt like reeds and lake water and sunblock. _Fighting the urge to press her lips against the angles of Brittany's collar bone, Santana looked up at her face._

_"What is it?"_

_"I just saw Sam and Mercedes," She said, grinning happily._

"What? Where?"

"Around the lake a bit- under some trees." Alarmed, Santana wriggled out from beneath Brittany.

_"Where abouts? Did they see you?" She stood up and walked to the edge of the water, trying to get a better look around the trees to the other cove of the lake._

_"They were making out so I don't think they noticed me. I just swam past them." Brittany was still kneeling in the grass where Santana had left her._

_Santana spun back to her in disbelief. "It can't be them then. There's no way."_

_"No, it totally was them."_

_"I think you have sunstroke," Santana said, picking her way back up the bank towards Brittany and bending to toss her the big floppy hat she'd discarded before she went into the water. _

_Brittany took it and jammed it on her head.  
>"I'm serious though,' she added, lifting up the flap of the hat to see Santana."It was definitely them." Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany's insistence and sat back down on her towel.<em>

_"Britts, I'll bet you anything you like that it isn't them. There is no way in hell that either of them would be attracted to one another. I mean, come on. Mercedes has jungle fever and Sam...I mean...he dated Quinn and I…"_

_"He dumped you both too," Brittany pointed out, looking down at the picture she was tracing in the dirt.  
>"No, no he didn't dump me. We just...we never really talked again after Trouty Mouth." Santana said, frowning as she tried to remember what actually had ended her and Sam. But it cleared when she looked over and realised that the answer was sitting in front of her, wiggling her toes deep into the loose dirt.<em>

_"So, technically you guys are still dating?"_

_Santana snorted. "It would be stretching the term to say we were dating." She shrugged, "mostly we just made out and once he brought me a lightsaber key ring."_

_"Cool," Brittany grinned. "So what are you willing to bet that it isn't him and Mercedes?"_

_Santana folded her arms and smirked. "I'm so confident that it isn't that you can choose what I bet you."_

_Brittany paused, pulling her lips to the side as she considered her options._  
><em>"I'd like to bet a kiss," she said finally.<em>

_"A kiss?" Santana raised her eyebrows. "That's not raising the stakes very high but alright."_

_Brittany swatted her. "Hey, shush you. I wasn't done! I want an exciting kiss."_

_Santana raised her eyebrows. "An exciting kiss?"_

_"Uh-huh. One that surprises me. One that I wouldn't expect."_

_Santana eyed her. "Fiine, I'll agree. But only because I know that you'll lose anyway. I mean, how are you going to prove it? And just FYI, I am not swimming around the cove to perve."_

_Brittany shrugged, looking back down to add the finishing touches to her drawing._  
><em>"I'll get proof eventually. Everyone always finds out whose been kissing who."<em>

_Santana felt her nerves tinge at that but she laughed it off, nudging Brittany's knee with her foot._  
><em>"You are so going to lose this bet."<em>

* * *

><p>"Well, I won. So cough up that kiss."<p>

Santana flicked her eyes up from the reflection of her lips to see that Brittany had appeared in the school bathroom mirror behind her. She removed the lip gloss stick from her mouth and turned around, thanking every God she could think of that there was no one in the stalls.

"Hello to you too and what did you win?"

"The bet," Brittany said, bouncing on the balls of her feet and grinning like a kid in front of their Christmas stocking.

"Bet…" Santana narrowed her eyes in confusion

"The Sam and Mercedes bet that we made in the summer. At the lake? And you said that if I proved they were the ones kissing you'd…"

"Kiss you," Santana nodded, remembering. "Yeah, okay. But how did you find out?"

Brittany backed up against the sink and propped her butt up against it.

"Rory told me that Finn and Rachel went to get Sam from a strip club so that he could be in the New Directions for Sectionals. And then I saw him in the hallway just now asking Mercedes if they could start dating again."

"Really?" Santana said, staring absent mindedly at the reflection of the back of Brittany's head. "Interesting." She couldn't picture them together.

"Uhuh, so now that I've proved you wrong I get a kiss. "

Santana laughed and reached up to tug Brittany's ponytail. "I guess you do. Come on then," She jerked her head to one of the toilet stalls.

Brittany looked over at them and Santana could see her considering. Then she shook her head, vaulting off the sink and tweaking Santana's nose as she sauntered past her.

"It's not going to be that easy," she said over the noise from the hallway that had rushed in as she pulled open the bathroom door.

Santana tilted her head.

"Oh?"

"You promised an exciting kiss! See you at lunch!"

The door swung Brittany out of sight and Santana was left alone, wondering what exactly she could do to make a kiss exciting for her girlfriend.

Deciding that it would vaguely have something to do with a blindfold and some melted chocolate, Santana traced Brittany's steps to the door and opened it just as the bell rang for second period.

Aiming in the direction of her General Business class, her mind still unpacking a plan for the kiss, Santana fitted into the flow of the students.

She'd only taken about ten steps when she was jabbed sharply in the ribs from behind. Flinching and clutching her side, Santana spun around, expecting to see a stupid jock wearing a perverted grin.

"Hey Santana." Quinn was smiling demurely at her.

"Don't do that to me again," Santana snapped, rubbing her ribs gingerly.

"I hate Business," Quinn sighed in reply, falling into step beside Santana and drifting her eyes lazily across the corridor.

"It hates you too. Hey so, what's it like to have Trouty Mouth back?"

Quinn wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. Annoying coz he didn't want to date me. He told me I have '_rich white girl problems_'."

"Oh-okay," Santana faltered, raising her eyebrows. "Have you decided you like him again?"

Quinn considered. "No, no not really. I just think he'd be useful. He'd be a great Dad to Beth."

At this, Santana's eyebrows shot higher and she stopped walking, touching Quinn on the shoulder to stop her as well.

"Wait, wait, wait. You," she broke into a laugh. "You're not serious are you?"

Quinn's eyebrows twitched into a frown. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, for the love of…" Santana tossed her head back in disbelief. "What kind of a pick up line is: '_Hey Sam, I know I cheated on you and stuff but lets get back together so we can steal my adopted baby back and live happily ever after with your parents under the bridge you guys rent'_. Come on Q, lets have more game and less crazy, okay?"

"All I want," Quinn said through gritted teeth, "is to get my baby away from that _woman." _

Santana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Look, I get that you may have like...a problem with Shelby because she gets to raise the fruit of your womb or whatever, but you did make the right choice with her. She's a nice lady- once you get over the hideous fact that she's responsible for Rachel Berry."

"She's disgusting," Quinn spat, her features twisting in revulsion.

"Alright, alright. Go another stop along on the insane train Q," Santana said, throwing up her hands. "But honestly, I think you're deluding yourself about Sam, and Shelby and the whole baby situation. You need to find another similarly disturbing albeit less life-ruining thing to focus your fetishism around."

The look Quinn gave her was one Santana had seen often- the arrogance, the condescension. Santana had stood beside Quinn and watch people's self esteem shit itself and head south for the winter under this same look. But Santana had faced worse. After her abuela, Quinn's stare could have been a smile. Santana notched her chin back up and glared back.

"You know," Quinn said softly, "it's pretty rich of you to give people advice and accuse them of scheming and ruining lives. I mean, your cruel, conceitedness is something I've always liked about you. But running around behind everyone's backs screwing up their lives so that yours isn't ruined- well, I guess it isn't the first time the pot has called the kettle black, is it?."

Santana bristled in shock. "Um, excuse me? What the hell do you-"

"I don't think I'm going to go to class," Quinn interrupted in a faint, airy voice. Then she turned and walked stiffly down the corridor.

Santana stood, a stone in the stream of students, watching her go.

* * *

><p><strong>"scratches his head and does his best James Dean"<strong>

_Santana had Brittany by the hand and her eyes set on one of the two doors at the end of the hallway. _She'd only been to Finn Hudson's house once before- but that didn't really count because she'd only loitered drunkenly on the lawn at one of his parties before Puck had taken her back to his place- so she had no idea where either of the doors led. She picked the right one and tried the handle. __

_The door, as it turned out, led to a laundry._

_Santana and Brittany stumbled inside, their drunkenness suddenly amplified in the small space. Santana surveyed the slightly swaying room noting that there was a sliding door open across one wall. She walked forwards and stuck her head through the opening, spotting a toilet and the destination of the other door in the hallway. Both of the hallway doors, it seemed, led to the same place. She pulled her head back and closed the sliding door then turned around to face Brittany. _

_By now, Brittany knew the drill- it was her job to lock the doors. It was Santana's job to check the room. _

_Brittany had done her job and was leaning her back against the door, her head tipped drunkenly to the ceiling. Santana's body was humming with anticipation that had been building all night so she didn't pause to look at her for too long. She was strictly business- and crossed the room to Brittany in two quick strides, crashing her mouth against Brittany's. _

_Brittany was caught by surprise- Santana could tell because her slackened lips took a beat to respond. But after a moment she was kissing Santana back just as hard- curling her fingers through Santana's hair, moulding her body to accommodate the press of Santana's up against it. _

_Santana didn't think she'd ever get used to the taste of Brittany's mouth and she darted her tongue deeper and deeper- feeling the drunken haze descend on her- blurring out anything that wasn't Brittany._

_As their kiss became deeper, Santana felt herself beating heavy and wet between her legs and she reached a hand beneath the hem of Brittany's dress. The brush of Santana's fingers made Brittany's thighs jerk open like she'd been shocked. That made Santana crazy and she moaned into their kiss, climbing her hands higher until it bumped against the outside of Brittany's underwear. _

_Brittany backed her lips out of their kiss and tilted her head up, closing her eyes as Santana's fingers began to press harder up against the damp, warm material. Santana put her open mouth on Brittany's neck and sucked at the skin under her lips, edging two fingers up and down so that the material dragged across Brittany's folds. Somewhere above her head, Santana heard Brittany moan softly. Santana took another patch of Brittany's soft skin into her mouth. _

_Giving Brittany hickys had turned into a mild obsession for Santana. D_ays afterwards s_he'd ride high on some unfathomable satisfaction whenever she caught sight of them . It was like proof that what they'd done had left some sort of mark- Santana was sometimes so drunk when she did them that Brittany had to remind her who they'd come from the next day.  
>"You," she'd say. As though it was the only possibility. Santana liked that thought more than she let herself realise.<br>__And plus, it was always funny when Brittany was questioned about them at school. She hooked up with so many people that no one ever thought twice when Brittany just shrugged off their questions.  
><em>_"Oh, just some guy," She'd say, casting a loaded smile in Santana's general direction._

_Santana was so engrossed in the taste of Brittany that it took her a beat to register the fact that Brittany had gone oddly stiff against her. At first, Santana thought that Brittany had accidentally gone over the edge like she sometimes did when she was this drunk. Santana pulled away from Brittany's neck, a smug smile already twisting her lips, and looked up into her face. _

_"Uh...I was just...I'm sorry I was just looking for a basin…"_  
><em>Santana stiffened in shock the moment she heard the voice come from over her shoulder. Brittany's face before her was stone. <em>

_Clumsily, Santana stumbled back from Brittany and turned around. _

__She blinked at the face before her, wondering if she was drunk enough to hallucinated _They couldn't have looked at one another for longer than 3 seconds, but the moment seemed to elongate in Santana's panic._

_Then the sliding door was edging shut and Santana and Brittany were left alone, listening to the sound of Rachel Berry closing the other toilet door and her foot steps trail down the hall way. _

_Santana couldn't look at Brittany- she didn't want to see how swollen her lips were, or the fresh bloom of the hickys on her neck. She didn't want to see how obvious it had been to Rachel. _

_She left Brittany behind and shoved the sliding door open, then that other door- until she was alone in the hallway, breathing hard. Using her hand against the wall to keep her steady, Santana made her way down stairs and headed towards the one person that could fix this all for her. _

_She found Quinn sitting on one of the windowsills, nursing a coke and looking disinterestedly at a bunch of football guys playing beer pong. Santana stopped in front of her and Quinn looked up._  
><em>"Where'd you go?" She asked flatly.<em>  
><em>"Huh? Oh, bathroom. Listen, do you realise that that chick that's in glee club with Finn is here?"<em>  
><em>Signs of life flickered across Quinn's face- her aloofness creaking under the weight of her annoyance.<em>

_"Rachel Berry?" She said the name slowly, stewing it in her mouth. Her face twisted in disgust. "Who the hell invited her?"_

_"I don't know but I saw her on my way to the bathrooms," Santana lied. "Finn maybe?"_

_Quinn shot her a withering look. _

_"Don't be so stupid," she snapped, putting her cup down and standing up. _

_Santana followed her as they wound their way through Finn's house, searching all the crowded areas for signs of Rachel Berry. _

_They found her in the place they checked last- the living room- standing against a wall behind a couch with her hands behind her back. A sheepish, mesmerised smile lit her face as she watched the group of people in front of her dancing stupidly to the song that was playing. Santana followed the direction of Rachel's gaze and saw Finn, tall and gangly, sticking up out of the middle of the group. He was laughing as he took a long gulp from his drink and Puck slapped his back, urging him to swallow it all. _

_Santana flicked her eyes to Quinn. The look on her face told Santana she'd seen it all too. _

_They approached Rachel in unison and then Quinn stepped forward- right into Rachel's face._

_"Are you lost?" She called, raising her voice over the music._

_Rachel blinked into Quinn's face. "No. No I was invited...I…"_

_"You must be lost," Quinn said, stepping back to point towards the door. "Leave." _

_With Quinn no longer blocking her vision, Rachel spotted Santana. Their eyes met in a look that echoed with everything that had just happened. And Santana could see what Rachel had seen- the rolling press of Santana's body against Brittany's, Brittany's hands mingled with Santana's hair, her head back. Moaning. And then Santana's face- turning, dishevelled and still half tinged with arousal, to stare at Rachel. _

_Santana pushed the feeling of guilt to the back of her throat. _

_"You heard Quinn," she snarled. "Leave."_

_Rachel, her eyes still on Santana, opened her mouth to speak. Santana felt the room warp momentarily as the choice hanging heavily over Rachel's __features._

_And then, Santana didn't know what had happened except that Rachel pressed her lips together and bowed her head, edging past them and walking out of the living room towards where Finn's front door was. _

* * *

><p>"One...two...three...twist and… No! Hold on. No, no. "<p>

Shelby pushed herself off the piano she was leaning against and strode over to where Mercedes and Sugar had just untangled themselves from one another.

"Girls, the tango is…" She wrung her hands and shook her head at the ceiling as she searched for the words. "There- there should be a whole undercurrent of things said in the way you and your partners bodies move together. It's one of the most sexually charged dances that exists."

"Apart from popping and locking," Sugar pointed out.

"Any-anyway," Shelby faltered. "Anyway Mercedes, you need to put a bit more attitude into it. And really," She turned and began to stroll through the paired up Cheerios. "Take me seriously here- I want you all to look at your partners, and picture someone who really gets under your skin. Who really," She rolled her eyes to the ceiling again and twirled her hands around her temples, "who really undoes your thoughts and sticks themselves smack bang in the middle. I want you to do the same thing to your audience with this move- I want them to be excited and wary at the same time. You're showing them your sexual appeal, but also show them your control over it. How you can cast it under their noses and whip it back just as quickly."

"Awesome," Sugar breathed, her eyes alight. Shelby turned on her heel and approached the front of the choir room, flicking her fingers over to where Brittany and Santana stood.

"Demonstration," she called, using the remote she'd left on the top of the piano to restart the music.

It took a beat for Santana to realise what Shelby had just asked of her. When she caught on she darted a look at Brittany.

She was already facing her, holding out her arms, and expectant smile on her lips. Swallowing her hesitance, Santana stepped up and positioned her body close to Brittany's. She could feel everyone's eyes on them. She could feel Brittany's eyes on her.

Carefully, Santana placed her hand on Brittany's waist and the other in Brittany's waiting palm. As soon as she had a hold of it, Brittany threaded her arm around Santana's lower back and tugged her efficiently closer.

Santana fixed her eyes on Brittany's lips which were mouthing them a count down. "Three….two…"

At the 'one', Brittany stepped back and plunged them both into the beat of the music.

Britt was the kind of dancer that made anyone dancing beside her look like they were wandering around roofied up to their eyeballs. But if you were her partner, if you had her palm guiding your hips and her thigh sliding between yours - the flex of her body keeping you in time- you looked like you were at your best.

Sure, Santana could move and follow a rhythm and not look like she was constipated like Finn. But it wasn't in the same realm as what Brittany led her into.

They strutted backwards, and Brittany lashed herself back across Santana's arm- dipping down then curving back up against Santana's body. They pivoted around and then the room tipped as Brittany maneuvered Santana's body expertly across her own arm so that she dipped and curved too. They swept once more together and Brittany was all sway and heat against Santana's body. They were both breathing hard. Their eyes locked to one another.

Brittany steered Santana back around, and they strutted through the movements again- the swelter, the curl, the dip and the pull back up until the music faded out and they were left up against one another, panting into one another's faces.

Clapping sounded- the rest of the world breaking through- and Santana dropped away from Brittany, trying a casual laugh and a roll of her eyes. She tried to ignore Brittany's expression- which was wide open with want. Shelby stepped forwards, still clapping.

"_That _was a tango. Take note."

"That was lesbian foreplay," someone shot back.

Santana blanched and wheeled around to the direction of the voice. Everyone else had turned as well to face a Cheerio behind Sugar who stood with her arms folded and her lips pursed uncomfortably.

"I don't mean to be rude, but no amount of imagination will get me to do that," she nodded towards Santana and Brittany, "with another chick. Even Bradley Cooper isn't hot enough to beat away the homo in that dance."

Sugar tossed her hair and turned away from the girl.

"Right? People mag _totally _should have picked Jason Momoa."

Mercedes put a hand on Sugar's arm and rounded on the girl who'd spoken first.

"Did those words seriously just leave your mouth?"

The girl narrowed her eyes. "You heard them didn't you? Saw my lips move?"

Santana took a step forwards in anger, gauging how hard to punch the girl in the face when someone moved past her, sending her slightly off balance.

"Do you know how much trouble you could get in for saying what you just said?" The girl had to look up, Brittany was a head taller than her. She shrunk away, frowning.

"It's my personal opinion so I won't get in-"

"Yes, you have the right to say how you feel- but that is not something that can override everyone else's right to feel comfortable and safe in their learning environment." Brittany shrugged, her tone even. "It's bullying and it's not cool."

The girl stared at Brittany for a beat and then rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Alright," Brittany nodded and turned to walk back to Santana. Her lips were pressed together- efficient, business-like. Santana twitched the corner of her mouth a in smile as Brittany came to stand beside her.

"President Pierce everybody," Mercedes laughed, flicking her hand at the Cheerio and facing Shelby again. "Shall we go again?"

Shelby started, drawing her eyes away from the open space they'd been focused on.

"Y-yes. From the top girls."

After practice, Brittany had to head to the library to print off stuff for her first meeting with Principal Figgins as Senior Class President. Santana wandering down the hallway on her own towards her car, her thoughts secured firmly on a shower and food. Any food so long as she could eat it while laying half comatose on her couch watching Friends. She'd TiVo-ed enough of it to hold a marathon and even the thought of relaxing made her limbs floppy and useless.

She decided to completely win at life and leave all her homework in her locker over night- which meant she could take the quick route to her car. Which meant walking past the New Directions choir room. As she approached the door she saw that it was open but she couldn't hear any signs of rehearsing. She peaked her head around the door frame. The room was empty except for Mr Schue and Rachel standing together beside the piano. Mr Schue was flicking through a thick pile of papers.

"Uh. Thanks for all this Rachel, we'll definitely think about a-a…"

"Medley from the 1988 season of Broadway."

"...yeah."

"Right, thanks Mr Schue." Rachel swung her bag higher on her shoulder and headed towards the door. Santana stepped back into the hallway as she approached. When Rachel rounded the corner and caught sight of her, she smiled briskly.

"Hi Santana. You're in no luck if you want to spy, practise finished half an hour ago."

"I thought you weren't allowed in glee club till after Sectionals?" Santana narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Oh, heavens no. I just sit outside in the corridor everyday."

"Right…" Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Are you walking to the car park?"

Too tired to think up a lie, Santana nodded.

"Good," Rachel said,"we can walk together."

"Uh…" Rachel turned briskly and began off down the hall. Santana rolled her eyes and after a pause she lengthened her step for a stride or two to catch up with her.

"Where's Brittany?" Rachel asked as they passed one of her old campaign posters.

"Doing President stuff."

"You know, I never could imagine Brittany being...erm… well_… organised _enoughto be a successful leader," Rachel cocked her head. "But the more I think about it the more I see that while the vote was determined by such things as the desire to see Brittany topless and the sugar euphoria created by all that fizzing candy she was giving away- I can actually see why she will do well. She won't get corrupted by all that power, you know? I mean, with Kurt and I...we…"

"Became mildly unhinged? Yep, everyone already got that, good to know you've caught up though."

Santana glanced sideways at Rachel, expecting her to bristle. Instead, Rachel chuckled.

"Well, yes. Yes you could phrase it like that."

They reached the double doors that lead out into the car park. Around them the afternoon was bleak and cold. Santana hunched over herself as the breeze bit her bare arms. She noticed Rachel pause at the top step leading down into the car park.

"Hey, how…" she faltered, "how's everything been? With your...grandmother?"

"Shit," Santana said frankly. Rachel pulled her mouth sideways in concern.

"That's unfortunate. I'm sorry it's not going well. Do you, do you need to talk about it?"

Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I don't know… I'm scared you'll spontaneously combust if you pay attention to anything but yourself for too longer period of time."

Rachel raised her eyes upward in mock contemplation, "Hmmm, I think I can manage _one _conversation."

Santana fought off laughter and wondered when exactly Rachel had become bearable.

"Well, thanks for the offer but surprisingly that topic is right up there on my list of things I don't want to discuss."

"Mmm," Rachel nodded solemnly. "Very understandable."

There was a pause and Rachel hugged her cardigan closer around herself as another chill swept around them.

Santana ran her tongue over her lips and took a breath.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Mhmm?"

Santana trailed her eyes across the stair below them, looking for the words.

"I just… I guess I wanted to thank you for being good about this whole mess."

Rachel blinked rapidly, frowning.

"Yes, don't worry," Santana assured her, seeing her confusion. "I can't quite believe those words came out of my mouth either. And yes, they did taste mildly like dirt. But I haven't forgotten...Well, I know you've had the opportunity for a long time to mess things up and you haven't. So...thanks."

Rachel opened her mouth in surprise. "Your-your welcome Santana. Hey, you know, I've been to several gay pride events with my Dads- the most memorable being the 1996 one where I got to sit on a float dressed as a rainbow. I consider it my first experience as a performer and so obviously I included it in my NYADA application. But, anyway, my point is that I think it'd be useful for you to attend one of them. You could, you know, meet people who can give you great advice about your grand..."

Santana held up her hand. "And _that," _ she interrupted, "that right there is why I've instated a restriction on the amount of sentences we're allowed to say to one another." She started off down the stairs, leaving Rachel behind at the top.

"I'll see you round!" Rachel called. "Good luck tomorrow at Sectionals!"

"Hope you've got a good seat!" Santana called back, waving a hand back over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>"<strong>Hold on to sixteen as long as you can"<strong>

_Brittany had just turned sixteen when she decided to bloom. _

_Santana knew that it was a stupid way to describe it- and it sort of made her cringe when she thought of it- but that didn't stop it from being somehow appropriate. _

_She shaded her eyes from the sun to watch Brittany pick her way across her back yard to the trampoline where Santana lay. She was frowning down in concentration to prevent spillage from either glass of juice she was carrying. She wore thigh-high jean shorts and a loose t-shirt that had been knotted against her lower back so it hitched up near her bellybutton- attempting, like Santana was, to coax some form of breeze from the hot, still day. _

_Ever since they'd known one another, Brittany had had curved hips and long legs. But today Santana caught a change- one she couldn't place properly. There was something about the sway of Brittany's hips. Something about the long patch of inner thigh that showed each time she brought a leg forward. _

_ Maybe it was just the tilt of the sun across Santana's face, making everything look more beautiful, but Brittany did look like she was in bloom._

_Handing the drinks to Santana, Brittany vaulted easily onto the tramp and lay back down on her towel, accepting the glass that Santana passed back to her.  
>"Thanks for these," Santana said, taking a sip, watching Brittany's freckled cheeks stretch as she grinned.<em>

_"No promblemo Jose."_

_"Jose? Is that the same Jose from 'No Way Jose'?" _

_Brittany nodded knowingly. __"Ya-huh." __Santana shook her head and looked away, chuckling. _

_"Alrighty...Where was I?" Brittany picked up the exersize book beside her and angled it above her face to block out the sun. _

_"Umm, I think number 32," Santana said, catching her straw in her mouth. _

_"Thirty two...thirty two...ah yep, you're right. Okay. Question thirty two: Would you rather be the sticky side of the Velcro or the fluffy side?" _

_Santana considered. She was getting used to the weirder questions on Brittany's list. It had been composed the night before at 1 a.m. because Brittany couldn't sleep. _

_'50 questions for Santana Lopez'- she'd showed her the title page proudly when Santana had arrived at her place to hang out for the day. Santana had scoffed at it, but when she found herself in the sun on the trampoline with Brittany reading the questions, she felt special. She felt special because Brittany was the most special person that Santana knew and yet here she was, wanting to know all Santana's ins and out. Caring__ whether Santana knelt to tie her laces or just bent down. _

_"Sticky," she decided with a nod. "You?"_

_"Fluffy," Brittany said, dropping her head sideways to smile sweetly at Santana. "We fit." _

_Santana took a large pull on her straw. "Mmmhmm. Next," she gurgled. Brittany turned her face back up to the book._

_"Thirty three: What was the first thing you ever brought with your own money?"_

_"My red lava lamp," Santana said, smiling at the memory. _

_"Thirty four: Why are Softballs hard?"_

_Santana frowned across at Brittany. "I don't know? Because sports is stupid?" _

_"I think it's so people don't get scared to play it," Brittany said, pursing her lips to consider. _

_"Okay, next." _

_"Alright. Thirty five: Do you push elevator buttons more than once if it's taking ages?"_

_Santana laughed. "Yes."_

_"Thirty six: What's your favourite smell?" _

_The patch of skin just behind Brittany's ear- it was soft, and smelt like her perfume, faded into the scent of her skin. _

_"Fresh bread," she answered. Brittany laughed._

_"What? What's yours then?" Santana asked, affronted. _

_"Steak," Brittany said instantly. _

_"Just as bad," Santana pointed out. "Next."_

_Brittany flicked the page. _

_"Thirty...seven. Narnia or Never Land?" _

_Santana pursed her lips and looked over at Brittany's profile. __"N-never Never Land?" She guessed, holding her breath for Brittany's reaction. Brittany blinked and turned to look a her, excitement lighting her face._

_"Really? Me too!" Santana smiled in relief. _

_"Might see you there then," she said. _

_"We'll both need to learn to fly though," Brittany warned her. _

_"I'm sure you're the right girl to figure that one out," Santana replied, turning her head back up to the sky so she wouldn't smile that soft smile straight at Brittany's face. "Next." _

_"Thirty eight: Daisy chains or fairy bread?" _

_"Fairy bread." _

_"Thirty nine: Ever get stuck up a tree?"_

_Santana laughed, shaking her head. "Nope. I was never stupid enough to climb a tree in the first place. How about you?"_

_"A few," Brittany said, attempting nonchalance. Santana grinned sideways at her, even though she wasn't looking. _

_"Number forty: Who is the best kiss you've ever had?" _

_Santana's grin stalled off her face. She swept her eyes away from Brittany's face before Brittany could look at her. _

_"I don't know," she mumbled, her eyes on the perspiration beads clinging to Brittany's juice glass that had been set beside hers on the rail of the tramp. "Probably with Puck." _

_"Puck? Huh. Okay. Question Forty One-"_

_"Who was yours?" Santana's eyes pulled themselves of their own accord back up to Brittany's face. She had lowered the exercise book and turned her head towards Santana- but her eyes were fixed on the space between their towels._

_"I don't know," she shrugged. "I've kissed heaps of people."_

_"You have," Santana agreed, waiting. _

_"I don't know but our kisses are pretty good." _

_There it was. Brittany's eyes were still fixed on the bottom of the trampoline. She reached out and traced a thumb over the black material. _

_"They're okay," was all Santana could answer. She watched the fan of Brittany's eyelashes until they flicked up and suddenly Santana was looking into Brittany's eyes. They were creased underneath a frown._

_"Only okay?" _

_Santana scrambled from the truth. _

_"W-well, I mean. Kissing boys and kissing girls means different things so I can't really compare you and Puck or anything like that because…"_

_Santana's body was jerked back and forth as movement altered the tension of the springs. Santana paused her sentence to see what Brittany was doing. _

_She was closer now, so close that their weight caused the tramp to dip so that they rolled against one another._

_"What're you…" _

_As Brittany reached for Santana's face, Santana caught the colour of her nails- pink and glittery. How had she not noticed before? She would have smiled at how 'Brittany' they were if Brittany's lips weren't so close to her own and if the soft sounds of her breathing hadn't captured all of Santana's attention. _

_Santana suspected it wasn't healthy to feel winded by a kiss. And it wasn't healthy to feel close to passing out as Brittany slipped her tongue into Santana's mouth- curling deeply inside it. _

_It was the sun, Santana tried to reason. She must have gotten too much sun. _

_Yet that didn't explain the way her thighs seemed to part automatically as Brittany's weight shifted harder against her. It didn't explain why her heart had entered the 100 meter sprint and hurdle. _

_Brittany pulled out of the hot middle of their kiss- right when Santana's whole body was bent upwards off the tramp against her own. Santana's eyes flew open and caught Brittany's smile. Knowing. Smug. _

_"Was that your final answer?" She asked._

* * *

><p>There was silence when Quinn left the bathroom. Brittany was squeezing Santana's hand still, looking down at the tiles between her feet. Santana took in the side of her face- the furrowed eyebrows, the pout of her lips- the soft blond wisps of hair that weren't long enough to be pulled back by her ponytail- so they curled around her ears.<p>

"I miss Quinn," Britt said softly, to no one in particular. "I miss how she smiles when she sings and it's not like her other smiles. And I miss Puck's shoulder shimmy and Rachel's bedazzled pen with the light up star that she sometimes uses to write out the lyrics on my hand before shows."

Santana lent her face closer to Brittany's, checking in alarm to see if she was crying.

"Huh, yeah," Mercedes chuckled. Santana looked up from Brittany towards her. "I miss those things too. And Kurt's ability to find an appropriate Anna Wintour quote for any situation."

"Or how when Rory talks he sounds like he's speaking underwater," Brittany added, her lips twitching in a smile.

"And Artie's serial killer jerseys," Santana added, feeling a smile squirm onto her face.

Brittany looked up at her, beaming.

"Yeah," she said softly, her eyes darting around Santana's face. "Those too."

Mercedes huffed a sigh and pushed away from the basin, turning back to face Brittany, Santana and Sugar.

"Quinn had a point," she said. "And frankly, I'm over all the fighting and fussing. I want my family back. I want to stop being all Rihanna and Chris and be more…"

"Ice-T and Coco?" Sugar suggested. Mercedes and Brittany chuckled while Santana, fighting her own laughter, rolled her eyes.

"What I mean to say," Mercedes continued, "is that I don't mind the sound of their offer. I think I want to go back. But… I won't join without you guys."

"I want to go back too," Brittany admitted, looking at Santana.

"I'm in as well," said Sugar.

"Santana?" Mercedes was looking at her hesitantly. Brittany was squeezing her hand.

Santana rolled her eyes in feigned annoyance.

"Alright, alright." She let go of Brittany's hand and spun to the mirror, checking her lip gloss.

"Let's go bring sexy back."

* * *

><p>Brittany was on the other side of the New Directions huddle to Santana, but her laughing face stood out the most. Her smile was the brightest and it was aimed at Santana.<p>

"I haven't been this moved since I watched part one of the _Oprah! A Farewell Spectacular_ online," Kurt was gushing, fanning his hands theatrically under his eyes.

"If we can perform like we just did now, we're going to kick-ass at Regionals!" Tina exclaimed.

"Woo! Yeah! _Kick ass!" _Finn whooped, pumping a fist in the air which only just missed Rachel's face.

From beside Santana, Mercedes clapped her hands.

"This," she announced, "feels like home."

Santana grinned and watched Mercedes pass her head-light smile over all of their faces. She saw it fall and falter on Sam.

And that was when Santana remembered.

Unthreading her arms from around Finn and Mercedes, Santana pushed her way across the fragmenting huddle. She stopped in front of Brittany.

"You were right." She said. Brittany stopped what she was saying to Mike and turned to her.

"Right about what?" She asked, her confusion crinkling her forehead.

Santana was moved. It could have been the reunion and the song and the fact that all her feelings were crazy and treating the inside of her chest like the walls of a padded cell. But she had to stop for a moment and take in Brittany's face. Brittany waited, trying several different expressions to see which one would match Santana's mood. She settled for a small smile.

"The bet," Santana said finally, shrugging. She stepped closer and took both Brittany's hands in her own. "And, well, just everything really," she added.

And then, in front of everyone, Santana paid her debt- closing her eyes and sinking into the feel of Brittany's lips against her own.

Home.


	17. Better Than The One Before

**Note: **

**Hello! This is me filling in the (Brittana) blanks for season 3 episode 9- the Christmas ep! **

**Another chapter for you guys! Enjoy!**

**(Sorry if there are mistakes, its very early in the morning!) **

**Reviews are spectacular. Everyone who reads this is spectacular and have a lovely day! **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 17: Better Than the One Before<strong>

"She's trying to kill us," Santana muttered, blowing air into her cupped hands to try to bring the tip of her nose back from the dead. Brittany, snug in her mittens and snow hat with ear flaps, glanced over at her.

"You shouldn't have dressed like it's the middle of summer then," she said, gesturing to Santana's thin cardigan and short dress.

"Facebook said it was a cocktail party," Santana reminded her haughtily.

"Yeah but it doesn't mean you can't cover up beforehand. Coats can be taken off you know. I mean, I know sometimes its scary when you get your head stuck in it and it's all dark but most coats have buttons so there's no danger! I can get you one for Christmas if you'd like?"

"I have coats," Santana reminded her. "But I thought I'd just be in and out of the car. Not waiting at the door and getting our...faces….chewed...off...by...frostbite." She said the last 5 words through gritted teeth, punctuating each with a bang on Quinn's door.

On the sixth knock, the door opened beneath Santana's fist and Quinn stood before them in a green cocktail dress- looking like she was already ready for senior prom.

"Hey guys...oh…" Quinn stepped aside just in time as Santana bowled past her, rubbing her hands furiously up and down her arms.

"Took your freaking time."

Quinn frowned at her, closing the door behind Brittany.

"Santana are you nuts? Where's your coat?"

"She refused to wear a coat," Brittany said, pulling off her own coat and her hat and her mittens and laying them on Quinn's outstretched arms.

"Alright, alright, I didn't bring a coat. Sue me."

"You just know for next time," Brittany said, taking hold on one of Santana's hands with both of her own- still warm from the inside of her mittens. Santana scowled to keep the smile off her face and Brittany rolled her eyes, dropping a kiss on her cheek and tugging her down the hall after Quinn.

In the lounge they found Tina, Mercedes and Rachel sitting on Quinn's posh leather sofas, all nursing wine glasses.

"Ladies!" Rachel swept of the couch over to them, clutching Brittany into a hug and planting her lips hard on her cheek. As she did so, Brittany turned her eyes towards Santana, alarmed.

"How many of those has she had?" Santana asked Quinn pointing to the wine wobbling in Rachel's hand.

"Oh, I'm not drunk Santana. I'm just happy that we're all together again," Rachel said, stepping up and holding her arms out to Santana who stiffly let herself be hugged.

"Take a seat," Quinn said, motioning to the loveseat around the other side of the snack laden coffee table.

"Looking fab as usual," Tina grinned at them as they sat down.

"Ohmygosh T, I _love _your necklace!" Brittany leant over the arm of the loveseat to catch the pendent on her fingers. Santana leant around Brittany to see the thing in question and drew back with pursed lips.

It was Hello Kitty with eyeliner and emo fringe.

"Can I borrow it?" Brittany was asking, her eyes alight.

"Here you are," Quinn said, approaching them with their wines glasses.

"Well ladies," Rachel said, beaming around at them. "I think this the opportune moment for a toast."

She held up her wine glass. "To reconnecting and making this Christmas the best on yet for the New Directions! Cheers!"

"Cheers," they echoed her, leaning over the table to clink their glasses together. As she swallowed, Santana leant back into the sofa- enjoying the warm wash of the heater over her skin and the tingle of bubbles down her throat. Beside her, Brittany glanced around and caught her contentment. Smiling, she squirmed back into the sofa as well, pressing her whole side up against Santana and put her hand on Santana's knee, rubbing her thumb in circles across the skin there.

"So. So. So, so, so," Rachel clapped her hands and wiggled in her seat beside Mercedes. Santana was alarmed to see that she was smiling around at them like some deranged presenter of a preschool tv show. Like Steve from Blues Clues who'd given Santana nightmares till she was seven. "Who is completely buzzing about filming the Special on Friday?"

"It's going to be epic," Mercedes agreed.

"Way better than the Wizards of Waverly place," Brittany nodded over the rim of her wine glass. "I'm not sure I trust Selena Gomez after she stole Justin Bieber's nice voice and gave him her manly one."

"I like his new voice," Tina admitted. "Ever since the guys did that Justin Bieber Experience thing I always get all flustered whenever I hear the Biebster."

"Mmm, yeah. That was super hot," Brittany agreed, leaning forwards to the bowl of grapes on the coffee table and pulling a couple off their stem. "And I remember," she chuckled through a mouthful as she settled back against Santana, "Artie wore that orange JB jumper for like two weeks afterwards. I had to tell him I wasn't going to have sex with him till he'd washed it and stopped texting me to come and fix his Justin fringe in between classes."

Everyone laughed. Santana tried her best to, but it came out more like a cough.

"Santana?" Rachel was leaning forwards to see her around Brittany. "Are you alright?"

"Uhh- yeah?" Santana frowned at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Brittany had turned to look up at her, her mouth open and her tongue curling around a grape. Santana shot her a reassuring smile.

"Hmm," Rachel settled back into her seat. "Alright. It's just that I wouldn't blame you for feeling awkward. I mean, wasn't that right around the time you persuaded Sam to break up with Quinn?" There was laughter in Rachel's voice as she said it but it faltered once she realised her miscalculation.

Stiffening, Santana followed the others in looking warily over to Quinn who, to their surprise, was engaged in covering her cracker with some cheese.

"Well we all know I had that one coming, " she said, shrugging and taking a generous bite of the cracker.

"Have you ever thought about getting back together with him?" Tina asked.

"Oooh, yes!" Rachel agreed. "I mean, now that Santana has Brittany and Mercedes has Shane there really would be nothing stopping you two from getting together."

Quinn swallowed her cracker and washed it down with a sip of wine before she answered.

"Nope, he and I aren't anything but friends. I did consider it briefly but, well, it was for the wrong reasons." She shot Santana a small, knowing smile. "It's good to have him back around though and I'm really looking forward to volunteering at the shelter with him on Friday."

"Say what now?" Mercedes snapped her head up from the snack table.

"Not this coming Friday?" Tina frowned. "That's the date of the TV Special. Remember, Artie told Coach Sue we couldn't help out with that."

"Uh-huh," Quinn nodded, chewing the rest of her cracker. "And Sam and I told Artie that our priority for this Christmas was helping people in need, not putting our ambition first."

"But...but…we'll be on _live _television…" Rachel stuttered, staring at Quinn like she'd never seen something more horrific.

"Well, actually...part of why I invited you guys here was to see if maybe I could persuade you to change your minds and come with us instead." Quinn looked pleadingly around at all of them. "Yeah sure, the TV Special is something that we'll remember for ages, but do you know how long the families we help will remember the fact that they got to eat a hot meal and be warm and happy on an evening where everyone else just takes those things as a given?"

"Quinn," Mercedes said gently, looking grim. "We already gave our word to the studio. And it's not like we haven't helped the poor before."

"Yeah, we raised money for them last year by carolling," Brittany pointed out.

"We raised $7 and some expired vouchers for body hair removal," Quinn snapped.

"Last I checked $7 still counted as money," Santana snapped back at her.

"Now, now girls. Lets just.. Quinn's obviously made up her mind and we have to respect that," Rachel said.

"Thanks Rachel," Quinn said, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I mean," Rachel continued, "obviously the real reason behind it is to spend more time with Sam so how about we all stop badgering her for it!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I can actually do things for others without expecting something in return," she said.

"Rachel's brain doesn't compute statements like that Q, watch yourself," Santana warned.

Rachel shot Santana a scowl while Quinn drained her glass of wine. "Anyone need more as much as I do?" She asked, once she'd swallowed. Everyone except Rachel held out their glasses.

"So guys, plans for Christmas?" Tina asked them after Quinn had popped a new bottle of wine and passed it around.

"Family feast and midnight mass for me," Mercedes said.

"Same," Quinn nodded.

"My Dads and I will get together for our annual Christmas eve showing of Love Actually and then on Christmas night we'll have the rest of the family over and be anxiously waiting for the announcement of the winner of the Christmas House Decoration competition that our street holds every year. My Dad actually wanted us to get a live baby for our life size recreation of the manger scene but luckily we convinced him that giving it 'a lot of blankets' wouldn't keep the child protection services away."

"That's so scary," Brittany whispered, cuddling closer into Santana.

"Guys?" Tina turned to Santana and Brittany.

"I'm going to Santa Fe! Wooo!" Brittany pumped her fists in the air.

"Ommygosh I'm so jealous," Tina exclaimed. "You're so lucky! My family isn't going anywhere since my Mom refuses to leave her new washing machine alone with the cat. What about you Santana?"

Santana started, coming away from her thoughts and back to the conversation. Brittany's excitement over her family trip had caught Santana like a jab in the ribs. It felt like some sort of betrayal- the excitement- when it meant she had to leave Santana. And Santana knew that if she admitted that to anyone but herself she'd sound like a stage five clinger.

"Uh...I...I'm not really sure yet," she mumbled.

"Are you not sure because of your abuela?" Mercedes asked in a small voice.

"Mmm." Santana took a fortifying gulp of wine and squeezed a smile onto her face, pushing away all the worry that was pressing upon her. She'd never really cared about Christmas before and she didn't see why that should change just because her abuela couldn't stomach the sight of her.

There was a pause and Santana looked into her lap, deciding to let the others exchange glances in peace.

The rest of the night was tinged with a gnawing feeling that worked it's way into the middle of Santana's chest. It hollowed out her laughter. It miss-tailored her smiles so that they didn't fit her face. It dulled the smell of Brittany's perfume, and satisfaction Santana got from all her casual touches.

When it was time to go, she felt relieved and even the cold on the way to the car was okay because it cleared her head. As they walked down Quinn's dark driveway Brittany threaded her fingers through Santana's.

"Will you stay tonight?"

"If you want."

"Course I do!"

"Okay."

They dropped hands so that Brittany could head around the passenger side of the car and Santana unlocked the doors.

Their drive home was quiet, Brittany spent her time humming to low tune of the radio and looking at all the decorated houses all lit up on the streets they passed. Santana gripped the wheel with both hands, trying not to wonder why Brittany hadn't tried at all to make her feel better. Hadn't tried to fix things.

Deep down Santana knew it wasn't Brittany's job and she was okay with it until she remembered the year before- and how hard Brittany had tried to fix Artie- how she'd wished so hard on Santa to make his legs work.

Just because Santana could walk didn't mean she didn't need fixing too.

* * *

><p><em>Santana was sleeping and then suddenly she wasn't and her bedroom was filled with Usher singing OMG. She sat up, blinking away the sleepy blur from her eyes and looking for the source of the music. She looked past Brittany who was only a ball under the blankets beside her with her blond hair covering one of Santana's pillows like an explosion. On the bedside table beside her, her phone was lit up, flashing and ringing and vibrating- the whole works. <em>

_"Britt," Santana shook her. "Britt, your alarms going or something. Get it." _

_"Whuuu?" Brittany lifted her head and looked at Santana through squinted eyes. "Is that my…" She looked at the table and saw her phone, unfurling her arm out from the blankets and reaching for it. _

_Already anticipating the noise stopping, Santana flopped back onto her pillows and closed her eyes. Who forgot to turn off their alarm on a Saturday morning? After the late night she and Britt had had, Santana was far from done sleeping. _

_The noise cut off but Brittany's voice sounded in its absence. _

_"Hey babe!" _

_Santana's eyes flew open and she looked over to see Brittany curled back on the bed on her back, smiling at the ceiling with her phone pressed to her ear. Santana could hear the miniscule tones of a voice on the end. She narrowed her eyes as Brittany laughed at something it said. _

_"Aw I'm sorry babe, I didn't know you'd be over. I'm at Santana's place."_

_Santana felt her chest constrict as she realised who it was. _

_"What did we do? Um well last night we helped her Mom write her Christmas cards and then had a Sweet Valley High marathon ," Brittany lied smoothly. _

_Artie must have bought it because Brittany laughed again at his reply. _

_"Yes babe, I missed you. Are we going...Ye-...We are? " _

_Santana squeezed her eyes closed harder as the mattress bounced from Brittany's excitement. _

_"Yes. Yes you are the best. The best, the best. And everyone said they'd come...oh, yay!"_

_There was a pause. _

_"Okay! I'll see you there then. I-yes you too. Byeeee!" _

_Santana kept her eyes squeezed closed, pressed her face into her pillow and hunched her shoulders over her ears. She tried to even out her breathing so that Brittany would think she'd fallen back to sleep. But mattress rocked and then Brittany was pressing her front up against Santana's back. Neither of them had put pyjamas on throughout the night so Brittany's bare breasts were soft up against the bottom of Santana's shoulder blades. _

_"Sorry for waking you up." Brittany's breath made Santana's hair flutter across her ear. She shrugged her shoulder to stop it tickling._

_"It's okay."_

_Tentatively, Brittany snaked a hand around Santana's middle. _

_"Well, good morning then." _

_"Mmm."_

_Brittany didn't say anything else for a moment. She just lay there- all soft and warm and up against her. Santana hated herself for enjoying it more than she should. For wanting to turn around and taste the night before on Brittany's lips. _

_"You still sleepy?" Brittany's voice was small, hesitant. _

_"Yep." _

_"Are you still going to be sleepy when we have to get up and go to the mall?" _

_Santana glanced back over her shoulder, frowning._

_"Why do we have to go to the mall?"_

_"Because…" Brittany pulled her face back and beamed at Santana. "Artie is taking me to see Santa and everyone from glee club is coming too! We can get milkshakes and pet the elves and sit on his knee! And also it'll be super handy seeing as I won't have to post my wish list anymore because I can just tell him in person what I want most for Christmas." _

_"What do you want most for Christmas?" _

_Brittany bit her lip and then glanced around the room as though checking to see if someone was listening. _

_"You know I can't tell you otherwise it won't come true," she whispered. _

_Santana shifted around to look at her, frowning. "You can tell people, otherwise you wouldn't be able to tell Santa would you?" _

_Brittany's face lit up again. Screw you, Artie, Santana thought. She'd been keeping up this Santa ruse for way longer than he had. _

_"Okay, but...just in case…" Brittany wiggled closer so that she was draped across Santana, putting her chin on her shoulder. "This year, I'm gonna ask Santa for…" She paused dramatically, grinning. Santana raised her eyebrows. _

_"Artie to walk again!" _

_Santana blinked and looked away. _

_"Oh…"_

_"Yeah. I figured since he's always so nice to me and he helped me with his magic comb and stuff that I'd repay the favour. And I haven't done anything bad this year so Santa is bound to let me get what I want, right?" _

_"That's how it's supposed to work." Santana shifted out from underneath Brittany and leant over to check her own phone. No messages. Figures. She couldn't believe that Puck was still digging being pinned and smothered by Zizes. She flopped back on the bed and sighed. _

_Brittany reached for her again._

_"What are you doing?" Santana snapped, looking at her. _

_Brittany looked hurt and she leant away. "Sorry I was just hoping for some sweet lady kisses before we get up." _

_"Not now. I'm tired. You go get ready." _

_Brittany's cheeks flushed. _

_"Are you not coming to see Santa? Don't you have your Christmas list sorted to tell him yet?" _

_"I dunno. I can't really be bothered."_

_"Please San. Please come." Brittany made a sad face. "It won't be as magic without you there." _

_Santana's eyes drifted up to Brittany's, feeling too many things all at once. _

_"Alright. Fine." _

_"Yay!" Brittany bounced up on the bed and reached for her phone again. "I'll call Artie and tell him that we'll be ready soon." _

_Santana vaulted off her bed and hooked a towel off her chair. She wrapped it quickly around herself and headed for the door- getting away from the sound of Brittany calling him. _

_But it carried. _

_"Hey babe! Just calling to say you're wonderful aaandd Santana and I will…"_

_Santana slammed the bathroom door closed to block out the rest of the sentence. _

* * *

><p>Someone knew her name and was shaking her- jerking her shoulder back and forth so that her thoughts scattered and she couldn't get a proper purchase on the situation that had just gone by. Wasn't she in the bathroom? Why was she still in bed….Brittany was on the phone with Artie.<p>

"San. San...Pssst...Santana…" It was a sing-song voice- Brittany's- turning her name into a tune.

Santana wanted the shaking to stop so she mumbled, "Yeah. Yep. What?"

"You awake?"

Santana drew a hand over her face and opened her eyes. Her sight wavered around the room.

"Yeah."

She and Brittany were intertwined- their legs all caught up with one another. One of Brittany's legs was hooked up over Santana's hips. She was wiggling the toes of her foot against the back of Santana's own foot.

And then Brittany's face- still fuzzy from sleep- was peering over at her.

"You were muttering and it woke me up and I thought you were saying stuff to me so I asked you what you meant but you ignored me."

"I was asleep till just now, sorry." Santana's chest shuddered in a yawn.

"Were you dreaming?" Brittany was looking at her inquisitively, tucking her sleep tangled hair behind her ears.

It had been less dreaming and more remembering in HD but Santana nodded. Brittany laid her hands flat on Santana's chest and rested her chin on them, looking expectantly up at her.

"What happened?"

"Just dreamt about this time last year."

Brittany frowned. "Anything different happen?"

Santana shook her head. "Nope, you were still dating Artie and obsessing over Santa getting him to walk."

Brittany pouted at the memory.

"All that hard work and they only worked for a day."

"Mmm. Waste of time." Santana wiggled out from underneath Brittany's leg. The loss of contact made Brittany pout and she squirmed closer- putting her head beside Santana's on the empty space of her pillow.

"You sound mad," she said, her eyes flitting all over Santana's face.

"Well it's never pleasant being reminded of how loved up you were with him this time last year." Santana hadn't meant for her voice to be so stiffened by resentment- but it was and it made Brittany jerk her head back in surprise.

"Are you mad about that?"

Santana was, but like most things she felt these days, it would have made her sound crazy if she admitted it.

"Just bummed." She shrugged.

Brittany's face pulled into a frown.

"But how come? So much has changed since then."

Santana frowned back.

"Has it?"

"Uh-yeah. Santana are you serious?" Brittany's frown had turned into a look of incredulity.

Like always, Santana's anger ignited with little warning and flared through her until she felt her face harden and it was using speaking for her.

"Go on, tell me how it's so different."

Brittany blinked, noticing the change in her ton. "Um...um well...For starters…" Santana's abruptness had made her flustered. "Well, there's the fact that Osama Bin Laden is dead. And...and I'm your girlfriend now, not Artie's. And this year I know that Santa isn't real. And I'm going to Santa Fe instead of staying here."

Everything Brittany had said was true- but Santana didn't let herself be swayed. She huffed a sigh and rolled onto her back- staring at the ceiling.

"Don't tell me you're not mad because you'll be lying if you do," Brittany said.

Annoyance was pounding in Santana's head- drowning out any what little self-censoring ability she had. She spoke to the ceiling, because it was easier and she did nothing to take the bitterness from her voice.

"I just think it's a little hilarious that you say so much has changed when you still act with as little regard to how I feel as you did last year."

"What? Where did...Why would you say that?" Brittany's voice broke like a teenage boy's in her panic.

Santana's eyes were boring into the ceiling.

"Because that's what I feel."

Brittany's body was tense beside her- taunt with confusion and hurt.

"How could you say I don't care about how you feel though? How many times will I have to keep on proving to you that I do?"

"It's just funny how last year you went nuts over Artie not being able to walk which has sort've been the deal for most of his life but this year, when you're with me, your main concern is your playlist for the drive to Santa Fe."

"What's wrong with that?"

Santana gritted her teeth trying to bear the brunt of her anger. But her next words flew out of her mouth- as violently as if she had just physically lashed out.

"I may have the full use of my limbs but that doesn't mean my life is all fucking fine and dandy. Is it too much to ask for some consideration about how completely shit this Christmas is going to be for me?"

"But...you don't tell me how you feel…" Santana heard Brittany's voice quaking with tears.

"I shouldn't have to."

"Santana!" Brittany's voice broke in a plea but Santana ignored it and notched her chin higher as the mattress jostled from movements she wasn't able to see. "Santana," Brittany repeated, "can you look at me please?"

Santana turned her head to Brittany- her jaw clenched in her effort to ignore the pink of Brittany's cheeks and her lips- bunched and quaking against the sweep of tears. She was kneeling on the bed, looking at Santana.

"Yes, you _should _have to tell me. It's not fair to get mad at me for not knowing how you feel when you don't tell me."

"Oh, so, I can't expect you to take the fact that you're going away and the fact that my family's plans for Christmas revolve around going to a place where I'm less welcome than Lucifer and then maybe join the two together to come up with even a vague estimation about how freaking pumped I am for this Christmas? "

They were both sitting up now. Brittany didn't say anything in reply. She just looked at Santana, her features wavering in tears.

"Guess I _am _asking too much," Santana spat.

"I did- I mean- I _do_ know that it's going to be hard for you. But I was just trying... I was just trying to distract you," Brittany had to pause halfway through as she began to cry.

Santana rolled her eyes ruthlessly. "Honestly? Distracting me? How? By wanking on and on and on about how great Santa Fe is going to be? How much fucking fun it's going to be without me? Oh well done, Britt. You have frigging out done yourself this year."

As Brittany began to cry harder, Santana shot up off the bed, and strode across the room, her whole body tingling in fury. She wanted to punch something. She settled for slamming the bedroom door so hard that the pictures in the hallway swung on their hooks.

Santana ran the water in the shower so hot that the bathroom was filled with steam within the time it took her to get undressed. When she stepped under the stream the heat of the water took her breath away. It crawled over her skin- blotching it in angry red patches. Like most mild forms of pain it was thrilling and unpleasant all at the same time. She leant her head against the shower wall and took several shaky breaths- wondering if Brittany was still crying in her bed.

Alone in the shower, with the water pounding in her ear drums, Santana could admit that she'd been wrong. When Brittany cried it seriously felt like Santana had screamed "I don't believe in fairies" right in her face. A little bit of magic left the world.

With a sudden rise of anger, Santana slammed the bottom of her fist against the shower wall and began to cry, her face screwing up and her chest heaving in ugly sobs.

With the overwhelming heat and her uneven breathing Santana began to feel light-headed. She swayed, hovering halfway between standing and falling.

Then several things happened in quick succession.

The sound of the shower changed and became less concentrated in a single space as though the noise had been let out into the rest of the bathroom. Then Santana noticed the water cooling on her skin- soothing it's irritation. And then, someone was pressed up against her from behind- all warm and wet with their arms anchoring around her middle- holding her up.

The fullness of Brittany against her, the way that she took Santana's weight gently but firmly- it all only made Santana cry harder- mess and tears and water running down her face which she kept turned away from Brittany.

"Come here. Turn around. San…"

Santana wiped her face and took a shuddering breath through the steam, letting Brittany's coaxing hands turn her around. Brittany's hair was already matted around her face from the water- and drops were cascading down her face- running down the rivets of the sides of her nose- curving down her neck and jaw.

"Do you know what the worst thing in the world is for me?" She called over the shower- spitting water out as she spoke, her eyes fluttering open and closed as drops shot at them.

"What?" Santana called back.

Brittany swept a palm down her face and pulled her head back to that the water fell in an unhindered gush between them.

"When I find out something has hurt you. See, you have a face for me and a face for everyone else. But neither one is easy to understand and sometimes I slip up. Sometimes I only realise that you're hurting when it's too late. I'm like… I'm like a cell phone with bad reception."

Santana gave a weak laugh.

"Things arrive late to me sometimes- or with bits of the message missing. So yeah, sometimes I don't do the right thing, or say them either. And when you tell me you're okay I believe you more often than I should just because otherwise I'd go crazy wondering and being confused- Like I was before we sung Landslide- when thinking about you would give me a headache because I didn't know why I felt like you loved me but had no proof. And I can't...I just can't keep wondering so I just take your word. It's not-" Brittany stopped her rushed words and took a gasp of the steam.

"It's not that I don't care about you. Because Santana, I do. I care every second of every day. Even when I'm asleep. And I know that we don't believe in Santa anymore- but this is different so please, please believe _me_."

Santana nodded- scattering water droplets everywhere and then when Brittany saw she smiled so wide Santana swore the sun had broken through the ceiling.

With more force than she ought to, Brittany sprung through the stream of water and threw her arms around Santana's neck. The force made Santana lose her footing slightly on the slippery tiles and as she swayed backwards they both squealed. Luckily her back connected with the shower wall because by then Santana had Brittany's whole weight against her and her urgent, hot kiss prising open Santana's lips.

They kissed as the water beat against their faces and pooled in the cavity between their squished together chests.

When they both were in danger of choking on the water that had gathered in their mouths during the kiss, Brittany stepped back and all the collected water from their chests crashed to their feet.

They giggled into one another's faces, and then Brittany stepped forward again, hugging Santana against her more gently. Santana hooked her chin over Brittany's shoulder and enjoyed all the curves of their bodies pressed up against one another.

"I love you," Brittany called into her ear.

"I love you back," Santana replied.

"I promise that I'm going to try harder to make this Christmas better than it was last year."

Santana pressed her face into the side of Brittany's neck. Somehow, she could still smell Brittany's scent- the nuances of her perfume. It was faint, and damp, but it was there and it made Santana's chest tight with tenderness.

"It already is better."

* * *

><p>"Kurt. If you squeal in my ear one more time while I'm driving I swear to god I will run this car off the road <em>just <em>to shut you up."

"I-I was just suggesting you cut down West Elm then you'll miss the crappy lights at...oh alright, alright." Refusing to continue with Santana's palm inches from his nose, Kurt's face disappeared from Santana's peripheral vision and she watched in the mirror as he settled back in his middle seat- exchanging disgruntled glances with Blaine.

Santana gripped the steering wheel more tightly .

"You already went and pissed me off with that little squee and dance you did when you realised that all the gays were riding in one car."

"I've already admitted that the dance was a mistake," Kurt declared with dignity.

"Uh, and also I'm not gay," Rory piped up from his seat behind Santana.

Britt twisted around in the passenger seat to grin at him.

"If you were this would be a great time to say so. It's like…" she passed her eyes around Santana, Blaine and Kurt, " a gay prayer circle. Or a big, big gay confession booth and we're all your priests."

"Your gay priests," Kurt added, nodding enthusiastically.

Santana rolled her eyes and then eyed Rory in the rear-vision mirror. "I promise we're not all this ...gay…" She assured him.

He smiled politely back at her.

"No-no, I know. Me cousin is gay an back 'ome he's the captn' of my town's rugby team."

Brittany turned around at him, her eyes round. "Oh, no. Okay, none of us are _that _gay."

It was lucky that they were so close the Shelter- because Santana was laughing so hard she could barely keep the car on the road.

She, Rory, Kurt and Blaine were all still breaking up into random bouts of laughter as they walked to meet the rest of the glee clubbers who had already arrived and were standing waiting under the light of a street-lamp outside the Shelter. Brittany was swinging on Santana's left hand, humming to herself.

"You guys got the gravy? We think we forgot the gravy!" Finn called as they approached.

"Don't worry, us gays got the gravy covered!" Kurt called back. It was enough to send them all into fits of laughter again. The others just stood their frowning at them until Puck's face lit up.

"Rory's gay!" He asked excitedly, whirling around to face Mike. "Cough up bud, I win!"

"He's not gay," Brittany said. "But his cousin is."

It was the best Santana had felt in a long time- she was so surprised at how, even though Brittany was leaving in the morning and Christmas Lopez family show down was only a couple of days away, Santana's spirits had lifted.

She knew it had to do with the fact that the glee club had been spending all their free time together rehearsing in the lead up to the Christmas Special. And for some reason it meant that Santana was always either focusing entirely on her performance or laughing so hard she strained her stomach muscles. She wasn't sure whether Brittany's way of making this Christmas better than the last had meant sneaking sedatives into Santana's lip-gloss tube- but Santana was enjoying her time with everyone in the glee club far, far more than what was normal for her.

It probably also had something to do with the fact that she and Brittany had spent their nights making up for all the time they'd lose while Britt was in Santa Fe. Their escapades left Santana so elated and spent that sleep came easily and heavily.

And even if the nerves and the fear did occasionally creep up on her in the middle of the night, Brittany always seem to shift closer before Santana could even open her eyes. And there would be soft lips on her cheeks and nose and eyelashes, and silky blond hair draped across her neck and shoulders and Brittany nuzzled her face into Santana and whispered a sleepy jumble of words that soothed her back to sleep.

"Come on babe," Brittany jerked her hand and Santana started out of her day-dreaming. She was alarmed to see that the others were already three quarters of the way filed through the doors of the homeless shelter.

They jogged to catch up and join the line.

The three things that got Santana most about the evening was how crowded the Shelter was and then how all the faces looked so..._normal._ These kids and their parents...or whoever adult cared enough to stick around them… looked just like normal people- ones you'd pass in the street and not even notice. And the third thing? Mikey.

Santana had never been a kid person. She tolerated her little cousins on family gatherings but only the ones old enough to be able to hold a semi-intelligent conversation.

Babies made her nervous and she prided herself on the fact that she'd never changed a diaper in her life.

Mikey was six- so he ticked the semi-intelligent conversation box. He'd beckoned her over to his little plastic table and chairs and asked if she'd cut up his turkey. He said his Mom had told him he couldn't eat with his hands in front of people. When she asked where his Mom was he'd just shrugged and handed her his knife and fork.

Figuring the little plastic chairs wouldn't hold her weight, Santana sat against the wall beside Mikey and debated with him about which fairy tale the picture on the back of the spare plastic chair was from. Mikey was convinced that it was Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle but Santana was sure that the little boy in the picture looked too much like Mikey to be Peter Pan and so it _must _be Prince Mikey and his pretty Princess that had wings and magic fairy dust.

"Prince Mikey?" He'd asked, his mouth- full of half chewed carrot and turkey- falling open in awe. "There isn't a fairy tale with a Prince Mikey in it."

"Uh-huh, there is," Santana insisted. Mikey looked sceptically at her.

"I've never heard of it."

"Well, I have," she tweaked his nose. "And I'm a lot older than you which means I've heard all the fairy tales that are around and there is definitely one about Prince Mikey and his fairy princess. It's a freaking good one too," Santana said knowingly.

"What's his Princesses name?" Mikey asked, the awe creeping back onto his face. He kept on forgetting to chew.

"Uh-Prince...Princess…" Santana studied the picture of Peter Pan and Tinkerbelle. It wasn't the Disney illustrations- but you could tell who they were. The artist had given Tinkerbelle her trademark blonde hair and her bright blue eyes.

"Brittany," She said. "Princess Brittany."

"Brittany…" Mikey said, chewing thoughtfully. "And, she's pretty right?" He looked over at Santana to double check.

"Oh, hell yea- I mean, yeah. Yeah, she's the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom."

"Good." Mikey said, seeming satisfied. He awkwardly collected another mouthful of his dinner onto his fork and Santana took the opportunity to glance around the room at the others. Mike and Rachel had kids swarming all around them as they performed a dramatic rendition of a story that Kurt was reading aloud. Finn, Rory, Mercedes and Tina were mooching around the tables, refilling glasses and removing empty plates. Blaine, Artie and Puck were over with Sue, Quinn and Sam, helping in the serving line. And...Santana paused, drawing her eyes back across the room looking for Brittany.

She finally spotted her in the serving line too- but not near the other glee clubbers where Santana had first looked. She was further up the table- right near the edge closest to Santana.

And she wasn't serving- her arm holding the big serving spoon was hanging limply in the air as she gazed over at Santana and Mikey. Santana had never seen the look on her face before, but it reminded her a bit of the look Mikey got when Santana told him about Prince Mikey. Awe.

Santana stared back at Brittany, not wanting to lose the moment. Then she leant over and nudged Mikey.

"See that girl standing up there at the table? With the white hat and the blond hair?"

Mikey looked and nodded. "Yeah."

"Her name's Brittany too."

Mikey turned back to Santana, his eyes wide. "Is she a Princess too?" He whispered.

Santana's eyes were on Brittany over his head, watching the smile grow on her face as she listened to them.

"Uh-huh. She is."

Mikey turned back to stare at Brittany and when she caught his eye and smiled he went bright red and turned away.

Santana laughed. "Don't worry. Pretty Princesses make the best of us shy," She assured him. "Do you want to meet her?"

Chancing another glance at Brittany and seeing that she was still smiling at him, he looked away and shook his head.

"She's too pretty," he mumbled.

"Mm, but, do you know what else she is?"

"What?"

"The nicest Princess I know."

"How many do you know?"

"Oh," Santana waved a hand. "Once you get to my age you've met them all. Here's a word of wisdom- Stay away from Snow White. She's secretly mean."

Mikey gapped at her until she directed his gaze down to his plate which was empty.

"You want more Turkey? Go ask Princess Brittany. Go on." She nudged him up with her elbow.

Slowly, Mikey got to his feet and took his plate in both hands- edging up to Brittany cautiously- as though she might fly away at too sudden a movement.

Santana sat back and watched their interaction- beaming stupidly. Her chest constricted when Mikey turned and pointed to Santana and Brittany smiled up at her, nodding as she replied to him.

Santana decided in the car on the way home that she'd probably learnt more in the few hours they'd spent in the homeless shelter than she had in the whole year of school so far. It had been a perfect night- and no one had really felt like a stranger. It had been one of the best nights she'd had in a long time.

But once they'd dropped Blaine and Kurt and Rory off at Kurt and Finn's place and were driving through the dark streets to Brittany's- Santana felt the reality of tomorrow hit her.

Brittany gripped her hand the whole way home- like she felt it too. So when they pulled up at the end of Britt's driveway and Santana had cut the engine, she turned, expecting to see a grim mirror of her own expression on Brittany's face.

Britt's features was golden the light of the street lamp that hovered somewhere above them. She was beaming.

Confused, Santana smiled reluctantly back. "Only one more sleep till Santa Fe," she said the obvious.

Still beaming, Brittany nodded.

"Will you wait in the car while I run and get something?" She asked.

The fake smile dropped off Santana's face.

A present.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

_Why for the love of God had she assumed that they'd exchange gifts after Brittany got back? _She hadn't even started looking for one yet- she'd been planning to distract herself with the task while Britt was gone.

Shit.

Santana sat stewing in guilt as Brittany disappeared inside her house. Wildly, she looked around her car- in her glove box, the coin compartment, the back seat- trying to find something that would pass as a plausible gift. She found her car manual, a half used tube of sunblock left over from their summer lake trips. An old, stiff gummy bear which had fallen under the front seat. Aaaand. Her car phone charger.

She did consider that last option but then Brittany was opening the car door again and sliding back into the passenger seat, clutching a piece of paper and a lumpy present wrapped in cartoon reindeer wrapping paper.

"Britt," Santana looked at it guiltily. "I didn't...I haven't had the chance to…"

Brittany handed her the lumpy package.

"Open it."

Santana looked at it in her lap then back up at Brittany.

"I feel so bad-"

"Just. Open it."

Santana looked back down at her lamp grimly. She hated opening presents in front of people. She tugged at the sticky tape on one end, edging it up carefully so that she didn't wreck the paper.

"Just rip it off!" Brittany said eagerly, squirming in her seat.

Santana huffed a sigh and did what she was told. The paper came away to reveal a soft, woollen blanket- predominantly brown, but patterned with intricate red, yellow and grey lines. Santana picked up the material and rubbed it between her fingers.

It was sort of scratchy- but she'd always liked blankets like that- the ones which would best induldge her habit of half picking her finger nail and running it across the surface of the blanket so it would catch satisfyingly on threads.

"A new throw? Oh Britt, this is super cool did you make it?" She unfolded it awkwardly, trying to spread it out over the steering wheel. Brittany laughed.

"You are officially the worst present person I've ever met. It's not a throw. It's a poncho!"

"A poncho...oh!" Santana had discovered the head hole. She felt relieved. It would have made a terrible blanket. But the patterns worked really well as a poncho.

"This is great. Now I can blob on the couch and eat anything I want and just wear this to hide the 10 pounds I'll have gained when you get back. You won't notice a thing!"

Brittany laughed. "You're going to look so cute in it. But it's not for blobbing on the couch."

Santana frowned.

"Alright, is it….bed time wear? _Wait a minute, _is this your idea of sexy lingerie?"

Brittany pressed her lips together in a smile and shook her head. She unfolded the paper from her lap.

"This is sent into a travel website by Paula from Santa Fe, New Mexico." Brittany cleared her throat, angling the paper into the light of the street lamp and read: "Winter in Santa Fe can be cold...The "layered look" is recommended. Always bring a jacket or a sweater, even in mid summer. And an umbrella or a poncho is also highly recommended."

Brittany looked up and caught Santana staring at her.

"It's what came up when I googled '_what to wear in Santa Fe in the winter,'_" She explained. "And I thought seeing as you would already have a jacket and a sweater and an umbrella I'd complete the list with a poncho. We have matching ones," she added happily.

Santana opened her mouth, closed it and tilted her head to the side, sure she'd misunderstood. Sure that Brittany had tried a bit too hard to make her feel included when she went away.

Brittany smiled even wider and turned back to the paper.

"Here's a list of things we are going to do while wearing our ponchos. Number one:Go to the Santa Fe Plaza on Christmas Eve and see it all lit up with farolitos. And then, number two: Follow the procession of the Las Pasadas outdoor play on Christmas Eve. Number three: Eat pasole. Number four: Visit the Winter Spanish Market. Aaaannnd my personal favourite, number five: visit the Kakawa Chocolate House."

Santana could tell that Brittany had practised the Spanish words- her voice acquired that usual robotic tone that she got when she spoke something rehearsed. Brittany folded the paper up neatly and then looked sheepishly up at Santana.

"We'll do a lot more things too," she assured her when she caught Santana still staring at her. "But just not in our ponchos. You also have sturdy walking shoes right? Coz," she pointed to the folded paper in her hands, "Paula goes on to say that the pavements tend to be uneven there."

A slow, rising grin spread goofily across Santana's face as she realised fully what Brittany was suggesting.

"I-I talked to my parents," Brittany was saying. "And I talked to yours and I made it so that all you have to do is say yes or no. You have until seven a.m tomorrow morning which is when Dad wants to leave. And if its yes then you should go home and pack tonight and remember the layering thing…"

Santana leant across and kissed the rest of the sentence away.

Santana put so much into the kiss- using it to try and communicate the fact that she loved Brittany in a way that she'd never been warned you could love another person.

It was like those words that foreign languages had for moments that English didn't have the term for. Santana could only ever remember one example:_ l'esprit de escalier_- the French word for the feeling you get after leaving a conversation when you think of all the things you should have said .

Santana wanted her kiss to be like one of those foreign words- finding a way to explain the things that normal communication just couldn't.

When she pulled away and opened her eyes, Brittany was still half engrossed in the kiss- her eyes still shut and her lips still angling for Santana's. After a pause she opened her eyes, realised it was over, and blushed.

"Yes. Yes I'll come with you and wear my poncho and...yes!" Santana laughed as delight covered Brittany's face and she launched herself across the car and wrapped her arms around Santana, whopping: "Best. Christmas. Ever!"


	18. No, Yes

**Note: **

**Hello! Sorry this one took so long, I've super busy moving and organising stuff for uni. I got into my screen writing course woo! **

**Here is the chapter dealing with episode 10- Yes/No. **

**I hope you guys enjoy it! **

**Everyone has been so kind about the story and it means so much to me. It is big, big praise saying you think I could write for Glee. It would be my dream job! So thank you, it makes my day. So keep it up! **

**I'll try be quicker with the next chapter! **

**P.s: Sorry again for any mistakes! Soooo tireedddd.**

**P.p.s: Sorry for uploading ch 17 twice...Idk what happened but it deleted itself somehow!**

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 18: No, Yes<strong>

**2008, Brittany:**

_The evening sun had lit up Brittany's room in a way that made everything - from the specks of floating dust to the scattered homework papers on her desk- _beautiful_. It was coming in low and gold through her window and __she didn't want that sun to go down any further than it already had. She wanted everything to always look this nice._

_Homework wasn't the right sort of thing to be doing when the world looked like this. It reminded Brittany of those wide open summer evenings when she was little. The ones when she would ride her bike around the neighbourhood- listening to all the chirped dinner conversations of the birds around her and enjoy the satisfying click of her tires and the odd rush of a car which sort of sounded like waves on a beach. _

_Brittany wanted to go for a bike ride now , but what 16 year old went cycling on a Friday evening? _

_She rolled her chair back from her desk to see more clearly out of her window, wondering if the air outside was cool- tinged with the chill of night time but only just enough to feel invigorating. _

_She decided to make a compromise- she'd ride her bike but she wouldn't wear a helmet. That ought to counteract the lameness, she reasoned. A couple of years ago it would have been considered a bad-ass enough offence to be stopped by the traffic monitor outside school._

_The colored beads on the spokes of her wheels were stiff and drained of color, her seat handlebars were cross sectioned with cobwebs, and her knees occasionally hit the underside of her wrists as she peddled- but other than that it was super fun to go whizzing down the side walk. __As she rode past the letterboxes and the front gardens of her street Brittany took a deep breath and inhaled bits of the lives that were going on around her- the distant clink of dishes, a snatch of laughter, a dog barking, the metallic, watery smell of a garden sprinkler._

_When she turned out of her street she didn't even really choose a direction- she just let habit guide her right and across the road. There were hardly any people walking so she had the pavement to herself and she hummed along, thinking about odd little intricacies of the world like people usually did when they moved aimlessly through it. _

_When Brittany had been riding for awhile she pulled up at an pedestrian crossing- though not close enough to the road that it looked like she was waiting to cross. _

_She stood up off the bike on one leg to give her butt a rest and plucked a few more strands of cobweb from her handlebars. She was thinking about how excited she'd been to get this bike and how she used to shove her favourite soft-toy- a lion with a heart on the end of it's tail- through these very handle bars and take him for a ride. Then she thought about the spiders she was taking for a ride now and then she felt a little bad for destroying their home. _

_She wiped the cobweb tangles on her shorts and sat back on the seat, peddling her way across the crossing and curving smoothly down another street. She was heading the back way home- the way that she and her Dad took when they were in his truck which didn't have a registration. The route missed the main roads where all the cops were and went through the residential area instead. It passed a couple of the football guys houses that Brittany had made out with. It passed Santana's house too. _

_There were lights on inside the house but only Santana's car was in the driveway. She'd just gotten it for her birthday and Brittany had been the first one she'd taken illegally for a ride because she was only on her learners permit._

_Brittany back braked and hopped off her seat at the threshold of Santana's driveway. Santana was the only one who wouldn't really care that she'd been riding her bike so Brittany figured she'd say hi. She brought one leg back over the bike so that she was standing on one side of it and walked it up the drive, placing it on the grass beside Santana's door._

__Seeing as Santana was home alone, Brittany thought it might be a little scary for a person to just appear in her bedroom so she decided to knock- though she usually never did._ _

_She struck her knuckles against the door a couple of times and then stood there trying hard not to fidget so she'd be able to hear Santana coming. _

_After a moment Brittany heard the dull thud of a door from somewhere inside and then footsteps. _

_"Who is it?" Santana's voice came through the door._

_Brittany stepped up and leant her face close. "It's Brittany," she called._

_The door jerked open and then Brittany saw Santana standing before her wearing a very, very short red dress. Her hair was damp and tangled and her face had half of her usual makeup- the foundation and the eyeliner- but no eye shadow or lipstick yet. _

_"There you are!" Santana exclaimed, like she'd been looking for Brittany all along. _

_"Yep," Brittany was a little confused so she decided just to carry on with her explanation for why she'd randomly showed up- even though it looked like Santana had been expecting her. _

_"I felt like going for a ride so I did and I'm saying hi to you because I'm biking past your house."_

_"Biking?" _

_"Uh-huh." Brittany stepped back and gestured to her bike lying on the lawn. _

_"You biked all the way from your place?" _

_Brittany nodded. "Yep. Without a helmet too." _

_Santana didn't look as impressed as Brittany thought she would be. But she was smiling in a soft sort of way so Brittany decided Santana didn't think she was too lame. Especially when she stepped half out of the door and grabbed Brittany's forearm- tugging so that Brittany had to take steps forward inside her house. _

_"Well that explains it because I've been texting you about drinks for the last half an hour."_

_"Drinks?" Brittany watched as Santana shut the front door behind them and resumed her hold on Brittany's forearm. _

_"Uh-huh. Nick's place."_

_They made their way up the stairs and into Santana's room which smelt like someone after a shower and had music with a thumping bass filling it. It wasn't that loud, but Brittany knew Santana would turn it up when they took their traditional pre-drinks shots. _

_Clothes were covering Santana's bed and her make up was all over her desk. Brittany liked Santana's bed and she wanted to lay on it because she was achy from that bike seat but she didn't want to get cobwebs on Santana's clothes. _

_"I don't have anything to wear to drinks." Brittany pointed out as Santana swept back to her make-up. _

_"Just pick one of my dresses," she said, looking at herself in the mirror and closing one eye so she could put shimmery eye shadow on. _

_Brittany peered back down at the bed, thinking that this probably wouldn't go well. Firstly, because she was way taller than Santana. Secondly, because she was scared to pick something that Santana liked too much to let people wear. Or else she'd pick something fine but then get it ruined later on in the night. _

_Santana came to her rescue, even though she was still busy putting on the eye shadow. _

_"There's a blue one somewhere there which would match...it'd suit you." _

_Brittany picked through the pile until she found a blue dress. It had white polka dots on it. _

_"This one?" She turned to Santana who flicked her eyes open and looked back at Brittany through the mirror. _

_"Yeah. That. Put that on." _

_Once Brittany had the dress on she realised that her first concern about wearing Santana's clothes was the biggest problem._

_"It's too...it's a bit…" She tugged uncomfortably at the bottom of the dress- edging it down so that she couldn't feel air going...up there. Santana swung around on her chair and stood up. Her eyes were both dark and smoky and so interesting Brittany thought she could look at them without getting bored for ages. They were sweeping up and down Brittany's body though, which made her a little nervous. _

_"It's a bit short," Brittany clarified, unable to understand whether Santana's look was approving or not. _

_"It's fine." Santana shrugged and bent to her bed, piling clothes into her arms. She turned away from Brittany and headed to her open wardrobe, leaning inside it to put the clothes back. Brittany couldn't see Santana's face anymore but she heard Santana's voice._

_"You look good." _

* * *

><p><strong>Present day, Santana:<strong>

The parking lot of McKinley could be like a mine field- depending on who you were.

For the losers it meant a meet and greet with the jocks and then some quality time spent with inside of the garbage bins.

For the fat kids it meant that extra 40 meters until the vending machines.

For others it meant hurrying as fast as you could away from your Dad's car with it's windows down and it's speakers blaring Social Suicide. fm .

For a member of glee club it mean having your name hurled across the lot in a voice that can only be described as Bambi getting his balls squeezed.

"Santanaaa!"

Santana stopped walking and her shoulders shuddered upwards.

"Santanaaa!"

Jesus.

She whirled around and jammed a finger against her lips as Kurt clopped up to her in leather ankle boots,.

"Your voice makes me want to change my name."

Kurt pouted as he halted in front of her.

"Now, now," he held his hands up. "Keep your claws retracted! It's been ages since I've seen you and I just wanted to say hi."

Santana frowned at him until he rolled his eyes and coaxed her like a pre-schooler.

"_How was your break?"_

"Great, yours?"

"Well," Kurt took a deep breath and flipped his eyes upwards- warming up his gush to serve it to Santana in one breathy, gesture infested monologue.  
>"Blaine and I joined a carolling group and we went around like half of Lima over Christmas. And I...redecorated my wardrobe- sorted everything by season instead of color. And I had a Grey's Anatomy marathon with Mercedes and Blaine and Rachel for some of the time but then we kicked her out when she said that she didn't get why everyone thought McDreamy was so good looking and…"<p>

Santana rolled her eyes and Kurt seemed to misread the gesture.

"_I know right?" _He exclaimed. "I mean, Rachel. Come. On. The _hair. _It's the McDreamy hair!"

"Rrright," Santana said, nodding with her eyes wide. "Well I've gotta...I'm going to…" She gestured over her shoulder towards the school. "My locker...you know."

Not waiting for Kurt to answer, Santana spun back around and began to make her escape up the stairs to the entrance. But in a loud scuffle of foot steps, Kurt was beside her, gripping her shoulder to stop her.

"Hey now, not so fast. I wanted to ask you something."

Santana raised an eyebrow and rounded on him. "You know, I'm probably not the best person for that kind of….stuff. Google minus the safe search is your friend, Kurt. Use it well."

Kurt blinked at her and then flushed bright pink. God, Santana thought, tilting her head to look at him, he could have gone so far as the fifth, pink Teletubbie.

Kurt was flapping her suggestion away with his hands like it was hovering in the air between them.

"No. _No._ That wasn't what I meant. I was actually wondering if you would be open to the idea of a date night some time this week."

"Date night?" Santana repeated dumbly. "Like...a date?" She jerked her head back in confusion.

"Yes!" Kurt exclaimed, nodding eagerly. "A double-date date night! Me, Blaine and you and Brittany! I texted Britt asking last night but she never text back."

"Oh yeah, she dropped her phone in one of the spas at Santa Fe," Santana explained dismissively, her mind still whirring around the date-night suggestion.

"The _spas?"_ Kurt's eyes lit up. "Oh, in that case she is completely forgiven. Anyway. What do you say?"

Santana took a breath and continued up the stairs, nodding at Kurt to follow.

"Look Carlton, Imma try ease you down gently alright? It's not you, it's me. It's not you, it's your boyfriends bowties. It's not you, it's the fact that you both rapped Pink into my face and I'm still having a broken nights sleep because of it."

"Santana…" Kurt began but someone cut him off.

"San! Kurt! Hey!" Brittany was vaulting up the stairs two at a time to get to them. In her hurry her bag had dipped into the crook of her elbow and was swinging violently back and forth and the peice of tost she was clutching was scattering crumbs all around her.

She stopped breathless in front of them, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. There were odd crumbs around her face and a few on the end of her nose and Santana grinned, gesturing at her own face so that Britt would know to wipe hers. Britt must have missed the signal because she just shot Santana a grin and took a bite out of her toast.

"What's up?" She asked, chewing.

Kurt's look of demureness was faltering in mild aversion as he watched her chewing happily- not waiting until she'd swallowed to take another bite.

"Well- well Britt, I was just asking Santana here if maybe you two would like to double-date with me and Blaine?"

Santana raised her eyebrows.

"It doesn't even bear thinking about anymore because one party- a.k.a me- has already said no," she reminded him.

Brittany stopped chewing and looked from Santana to Kurt.

"It does sound fun," she murmured.

"See?" Kurt spun to Santana, gesturing wildly at Brittany. "That is what I was looking for! An actual human response."

"Santana's a human." Brittany deadpanned, frowning at him.

"Really?" Kurt put on his Rizzo voice and raise his eyebrows. "Coz she's had me fooled for quite some time."

The bell mounted on the building above them shrilled piercingly above their heads and they all jumped. Santana took it as a signal and grabbed Brittany's arm, tugging her forwards into the school.

"Think about it and get back to me!" Kurt stood on tiptoes to call to them.

"You've already got my answer Hummel!" Santana called back in a sing-song voice.

* * *

><p><strong>2008, Brittany: <strong>

_The whole room was pulsing. Or at least, that's what it felt like to Brittany. Brittany had her eyes closed because she was drunk and because she was dancing. She wanted to feel like she was making the world sway, not the other way around- and the only way to do that was to keep her eyes closed. _

_She pulled her arms up through her hair and swung her hips- back and forth and back and forth and she almost wished she could just have the bass take her and rock her in it's arms. _

_She realised then that someone was closer to her than everyone else. They were curving their body against hers and she could sort of feel moistness on her neck- like someone was breathing there. And then two hands were on either side of her hips and her whole back was covered by someone. _

_Santana's voice sounded over the music. _

_"Turn around Britt." _

_Brittany didn't open her eyes but she did what Santana told her and then kept dancing- enjoying the way she met Santana's body with her own._

_"Kiss her," someone else with a different voice was calling. __"Kiss her." _

_Brittany opened her eyes and saw that Santana's dancing wasn't really dancing but just her being guided between the movements of Brittany in front of her and Puck behind her. His hands were around Santana's hips like Santana's were around Brittany's. And he had his chin tucked into Santana's neck. He kept repeating himself._

_"Kiss her. Go on. Kiss her." _

_Santana's eyes focused blearily on Brittany's, her hands scooping Brittany's hips harder against her own. They came so close together that__ if Brittany could see straight she would have been able to count Santana's eye lashes. And Puck's as well._

_"Kiss her. Do it. I know you want to." His face was buried in Santana's neck- and Brittany noticed that bits of her hair kept on getting stuck to his lips._

_Cautiously because she still didn't really know what was supposed to be happening, Brittany closed her eyes and lifted her arms and tucked her hands around Santana's ribs- above Puck's hands. Then she coasted their bodies together harder, slipping one of her legs in between Santana's thighs. _

_She didn't know what she was doing, but wasn't that the point? _

_Brittany couldn't be bothered thinking or wondering what came next she just...She could hardly remember the way Santana had tasted- those couple of times they'd made out in front of guys. And she wanted to be reminded. _

_Brittany could feel the scatter of Santana's breath- hot and alcoholic- which meant that their faces must be hovering close together. She peeked her eyes open and saw she was right. Santana's eyes were closed- and her lips were peeled apart. _

_"Kiss her!" Puck was saying over and over and over again. "Kiss her. Just kiss her…Kiss her. Just..."_

_"Kiss me." _

_At the sound of Brittany's voice, Santana's eyes flicked up. Brittany dug her fingers into Santana's back and angled her face down towards Santana's lips- puckering hers expectantly. _

_From around them and from Puck especially- there were whoops and cheers and wolf whistles. _

_Santana slid one hand slowly up Brittany's back- curving it up around the back of Brittany's head- through her hair. _

_Brittany watched Santana's lips come closer- slightly parted- and she watched Santana's eyes flutter closed. _

_When their lips touched Brittany closed hers too. _

_They weren't soft kisses. And they weren't rough. They were deep and warm and stitched up with something else entirely. _

_Santana's tongue was coaxing and demanding and every snatch of it stole a little of Brittany's breath- a little of her reason. There was more cheering, and Brittany could feel more hands on her than just Santana's. Puck's- she guessed- moving down across her butt. _

_But she couldn't really take in what was happening because Santana's hands were around her face now- pulling her mouth hungrily forwards and there was this insistent, heavy beating in between Brittany's legs and she could feel her underwear sticking to her. It__ was like an ache- like something had gone missing from inside her and maybe she could find it somewhere in this kiss. _

_But every time Brittany deepened the kiss to look for what was missing, the aching grew worse._

_She needed to sit down but she didn't want this to be over. _

_And then, all of a sudden, it was. And Brittany was blinking and being tugged somewhere and she didn't really know what was happening, only that Santana had a hold of one of her hands and Puck, further ahead, had a hold of Santana's. They were moving through the throng of people until the air opened up- free from breath and body heat and music. They were in a hallway- and Brittany kept glancing off the walls because Santana and Puck were moving faster than she could make her legs work. _

_When she saw the bed in the room, Brittany headed for it immediately and dropped onto it, hoping that everything would slow down._

_She knew her dress- no, Santana's dress- was probably hitched all the way up her legs but she didn't feel like lugging her heavy limbs to tug it down and anyway, Puck and Santana weren't paying attention to her. They were standing beside the bed, whispering and kissing. _

_Brittany stretched her arms above her head and wondered if she should leave- If maybe they hadn't meant to take her with them. But then Santana sunk down on the bed- on the same angle that Brittany was lying and put an arm over Brittany's ribcage- which was nice because it was solid and warm and held Brittany down on the bed so that she wouldn't spin away. _

_"She all good?" Puck asked from above them._

_"Hmm? Britt? You okay?" Santana asked. _

_Brittany nodded, snuggling her face closer to Santana's and thinking that they should just stay all entwined like this and go to sleep. _

_But Puck was still talking. _

_"Ask her," he urged. "Go on. Does she want to?" _

_"Britt?" Santana's voice was soft and less annoying than Puck's. Brittany fluttered her eyes open in response. _

_"You wanna keep kissing?"_

_Brittany blinked at her and didn't say anything because she'd never been asked that before by Santana. Puck moved closer and sank down on the bed on Brittany's other side. The mattress jostled violently with his weight and Brittany felt her tummy tug slightly in nausea. He was heavier than Santana, so his weight made the mattress sink and Brittany curved with it into him. She kept her eyes on Santana and saw that she was still waiting for answer. _

_Partly because Santana's face looked so pinched by some emotion that Brittany didn't recognise, and partly because she was being brave, Brittany leaned over and put her lips back against Santana's. _

_All the rushing in Brittany's head started again as Santana's mouth opened under her kiss and she gave Brittany her tongue. Puck was pressing hard up against Brittany from behind- like he'd done to Santana while they were dancing. His hand was on her tummy and sliding up to her ribs and then he was squeezing her boob and whispering all raspy into her ear._

_"Yeah...you like that? You like kissing her?"_

_She wished he wouldn't ask so many questions because she couldn't answer and kiss at the same time. It was what dentists did when they were looking at your teeth._

_But then Santana pulled back and ran her eyes over what Puck was doing. After a beat, Santana drew her eyes back to Brittany. _

_"You okay Britt?" _

_"Yeah, she's okay. She's fucking hot…" Puck breathed into Brittany's ear. _

_Brittany didn't feel so good. The Puck touching her part might have been exciting but she'd begun to feel really queasy- it was like her tummy was tugging in two different directions. Her body was heavy but she managed to get upright and skitter herself off the bed so her bum was on the floor. Then sick rolled up her throat and out her mouth onto the carpet and she was coughing and spluttering and retching noisily. _

_"Oh, ohhh shittt…" Puck said somewhere above her. _

_"Britt," Santana was beside her, a hand on her back, and another scooping up the hair from her face. "It's okay, let it out."_

_Dimly, Brittany thought that Santana couldn't be serious- seeing as this was the floor of someone's bedroom. Besides, she didn't feel like she was going to be sick again. She leant back against the bed and took acidy breaths- trying to stop herself from being all shaky. She didn't want to open her eyes but she did so that she could see where Santana was. She was right beside her. Brittany noticed that someone had kissed all Santana's red lipstick off so that they were more light pink. A beat later she realised that she'd been the one who'd done it. _

_"I'm sorry," she mouthed- her mouth was really dry. She was sorry about the lipstick but mostly sorry because they'd had to stop kissing. _

_"It's okay Britt. Do you want to go home?" _

_"Aw no, come on. You're okay aren't you Brittany?" Puck nudged her thigh with the toe of his shoe. Brittany looked up and was about to shrug because she didn't want to disappoint him but then Santana's voice whipped over her head. _

_"Seriously Puckerman? She's just been sick and all you can think about is your dick?"_

_"No. Hey, no I just...well, do you want some water or something?" He nudged her again with his foot. _

_Brittany did want water but she shook her head. Santana was rubbing her back again. _

_"Wanna go home?" She asked quietly. Brittany looked at her lap and nodded. _

_"Oh, come on!" Puck's voice rose in frustration. "Just have a lie down and you'll be sweet after a while." _

_"Shut it and leave," Santana snapped at Puck, standing up and curling her hands around Brittany's arm pits._

_As Brittany managed to stand, she heard the door to the bedroom slam shut. _

_"I'm sorry," Britt said again as they stood together with their hands locked on one another's forearms for balance. _

_Santana shook her head, her face all flushed and hard from yelling at Puck._

_"We can stay…" Brittany tried again. _

_"No. We're going home, come on." Santana gently curved an arm around Brittany's waist and they walked like they were in a three legged race to the bedroom door. _

* * *

><p><strong>Present day, Santana:<strong>

When she woke up that morning, Santana had had no inkling that the day would take such an apocalyptic turn. But, here she was- standing in a bathroom with Tina, and a crying Mercedes - Agreeing with the advice Rachel Berry had just given.

"Hey, I think you just need to take it slow okay?" Rachel had stepped up closer to Mercedes. "Listen to your heart. Maybe the spark with Sam is still there still there."

Santana hated seeing Mercedes upset- it was almost the same feeling as seeing your Mom cry because Santana had come to depend on Mercedes smile and her laughter and her attitude.

She stepped forward too, the cursed agreement with Rachel still making her head nod.

"You have to do what's best for you- there's no point thinking about someone else when you have to make this sort of choice," Tina said softly.

"This isn't supposed to happen to girls like me," Mercedes murmured.

Santana, Tina and Rachel exchanged glances.

"Girls like..." Santana ventured.

"I've never had boy like me before," Mercedes voice wavered, "and now... And now I have two boys and I have no idea. It's just so... Confusing."

"I know, but time will work it out," Rachel squeezed Mercedes arm. "And in the meantime maybe, I don't know, we could distract you?" Rachel looked hesitantly at Tina and Santana.

Tina nodded, " Yeah! Us girls will take you out and have a good time!"

"Really?" Mercedes had perked up slightly.

"Uhuh," Rachel nodded vigorously. "Oh, I can already think of some ideas for what we can do. Maybe, maybe a karaoke evening... Or play charades and braid one anothers hair or..."

"Or we could do normal people things like shopping and a movie?" Santana suggested, rolling her eyes at Tina and Mercedes.

"Well..." Rachel hesitated.

"That sounds great Santana," Tina cut in front of Rachel.

They looked at Mercedes.

"Keen, M?" Santana asked her gently.

Mercedes sniffed and nodded, hugging her arms around herself. "Invite Q and Britt too," she said.

"Sugar?" Tina asked, smiling faintly. Mercedes laughed and rolled her eyes.

"She'll certainly be a distraction."

"That girl," Rachel shook her head in disapproval. "Is odd."

"Oh yep, because you're just the picture of sanity," Santana agreed sarcastically.

"Tonight is going to be fun, I can already tell!" Tina said, laughing at the look on Rachel's face.

* * *

><p>Rachel was the first waiting outside the mall- inspecting the notice board just inside the sliding doors.<p>

Santana spotted her when they were still twenty or meters away and if it wasn't for Brittany clutching her arm, her face flushed from excitement, Santana would have turned on her heel and walked away.

"Guys! Hey!"

Santana and Britt turned in unison to see Quinn and Mercedes coming across the car park towards them.

"Oh thank god," Santana muttered as she was jerked sideways by Brittany's enthusiasm.

"Hello!" Brittany called, skipping up to them and disengaging from Santana so she could throw her arms around Mercedes. "Thanks for including me on your lady date. I promise you won't have a moment to waste thinking about boys when I'm dealing with you," She said brightly.

Mercedes raised an eyebrow while Quinn and Santana fought off laughter.

"Is everyone else here?" Quinn asked, craning her neck.

Santana grimaced. "Berry's waiting in the foyer and I haven't seen...oh, hey Tina."

Tina was strolling up to them- half her face covered by her scarf and her hands shoved deep inside her coat pockets.

"She looks like a ninja," Brittany whispered to Santana as she approached. Tina pulled the scarf down from her face to greet them.

"Sugar couldn't make it. Something about picking a new car... I didn't ask." Tina said as they all turned and walked towards the double doors.

Rachel spun as Mercedes called her name and beamed at them with her glassy eyes.

"Ah finally! I've only been waiting twenty minutes. Now, look at this," she pointed to the notice board. "Someone is advertising for a dog walker."

"Wow. Screw NYADA." Santana said in mock reverence.

"No," Rachel frowned. "No, I meant for Mercedes to keep herself busy and clear her head from the Sam thing."

"By walking dogs?" Quinn asked sceptically.

"I usually walk Lord Tubbington when I need to think. So maybe Mercedes might end up thinking too much if she starts walking dogs," Brittany pointed out.

"That cat has never been walked in it's life," Tina said. "But I do think you're on to something there Britt," she nodded and gestured further into the mall. "Lets get our shop on!"

Brittany gasped excitedly and tugged her hat off, shook her hair loose and unbuttoned her coat as she skipped ahead with Tina.

Quinn, Rachel, Santana and Mercedes walked at a normal pace through the first row of shops. Trying to keep casual, hoping that Rachel, Mercedes and Quinn were too caught up in their discussion of Mr Schue's proposal to Miss Pillsbury, Santana veered away from them. She wandered up to a rack of underwear on sale outside of a lingerie shop- fingering through the hangers and feigning interest. Then, with a quick glance to check that the others weren't watching, she darted inside the shop and headed straight to the very back wall.

When she got there she stopped and raised her eyes up the stacks of corsets and g-strings and every pattern of lace that you could think of. She already had an idea of what she wanted- but the trouble was finding it as quickly as she could.

_Red. Red._

It should freaking stand out seeing as it was supposed to be the first color the human eyes registered. She flipped the hangers on the nearest stack- back and back until she found a sheer red lacy bra and g-string set. She smirked to herself and unhooked it from the bar.

"Can I help you there?"

Santana jumped a foot and spun around. A girl with purplish-red hair and a wide smile was looking at her. Her name badge said Yvette.

"Oh, no, no I was just- well I think I'm going to get this." She held up the hanger. Yvette glanced at it and nodded.

"You don't want to try it…?"

"Nope." Santana shot a nervous glance towards the entrance. She'd seen the size, it would fit fine. Besides, she'd brought plenty of these things in her time- just never with the double threats of Rachel's loudness and the presence of the person she was planning to wear it for hovering over her.

"Alrighty…Come up with me to the counter."

In Santana's haste, it seemed the this Yvette person was moving excruciatingly slowly. Santana almost wanted to shove her just to get her speed up as she paused to adjust a pair of boxers hanging askew.

When they finally got to the counter, Yvette took every precaution in making sure that the lingerie was carefully removed from the hooks of the hanger and folded properly. And while she fiddled with them, she talked.

"So do you want this gift wrapped?"

Santana shook her head.

"Oh so," she looked up and grinned and Santana, "it's for you? Are you the one being gift wrapped?"

Santana blinked at her. "Uh…"

The girl laughed. "Well, whoever the guy is he's lucky coz these are top of the line."

Santana had her card in her hand, hovering it over the eftpos machine even though the girl hadn't scanned the tags yet.

"Uh, right. Good to know," she mumbled.

_"Oh there you are!"_

Santana would have imploded if it was possible. Rachel had appeared on one side of her and peered down at the lingerie that the girl was folding.

"What are you get-"

From behind them, another familiar voice sounded.

"Rach? Where are you? Did you find her?"

Santana froze.

"Over here Brittany!" Rachel called.

"No." Santana muttered through gritted teeth, whipping around to grip Rachel's arm. "No. No. No. Shit. Please, can you please just once do me a favour and distract her?"

If the situation hadn't have been so awkward, Santana would have found the sequence of emotions on Rachel's face completely and utterly hilarious. She blinked at Santana in alarm and confusion, then shot the lingerie a look of horror and then turned bright, bright red as it all processed through her head.

"Oh, oh you're buying that and she's...she cant...oh...wow...um... okay yes. Yes. I-" She pushed away from the counter and bustled away, calling to Brittany that she'd seen Santana over by the night gowns.

Santana kept staring down at the eftpos machine like she wanted to know it's whole life story. The girl folded the lingerie and pushed them in a bag and then clacked some buttons on the till.

"Trying to be sneaky huh?" She asked as the eftpos machine finally lit up with the price.

Santana didn't answer her, just punched in her code and whisked the bag off the counter and into her coat pocket. She did the same with her card and then turned to go with a muttered thanks.

"I'm sure she'll like them!" Yvette called as Santana entered the maze of racks again. She faltered in surprise and glanced back around.

Yvette was giving her a double thumbs up.

Outside the shop, Santana almost collided with Brittany, Rachel and Tina rushing past.

"San!" Brittany threw her arms around her. "Rachel was making me chase geese in the nightie section of that shop. She told me you were there and I told her she was on crack."

Santana laughed weakly, avoiding Rachel's eyes like the plague and snaking an arm around Brittany's waist.

"Shall we get shakes?" She asked as a distraction. Brittany's eyes lit up and she nodded, tugging Santana forwards. As they walked, Santana caught Tina looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Whatever you did, thanks." She murmured.

Santana frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Whatever you did to Berry in that shop," Tina jerked her head to Rachel who was walking ahead of them with her head bowed, "it finally got her to shut up about the dog walking idea."

* * *

><p>They spent so long in the mall that they missed the movie time for the rom-com that Mercedes had wanted to see so they ended up strolling through the evening streets- heading towards the Lima Bean.<p>

They walked in twos- with Quinn and Mercedes linked arm in arm in the lead, then Tina and Rachel- both texting- and then Brittany and Santana. Brittany had her hat back on and her coat buttoned to her chin and Santana was resisting the urge to kiss the tip of her nose.

No longer able to contain herself, she jerked the arm that she had wrapped around Brittany's waist and pulled her closer.

"You cold?"

Brittany nodded, pouting at Santana.

"Well," Santana fought the smirk off her face. "I have something in my pocket that will help thaw you out when we get home."

Brittany's face instantly dropped into curiosity. She smiled shyly and reached to pat the lump in Santana's coat pocket. "What is it? A lighter?"  
>Santana shook her head.<p>

"Matches?"

"Nope."

"A heater?" Brittany tried again. Santana laughed and shook her head.

"Not even close." When she saw Brittany's disappointment she gave in a little. "Okay, okay. I'll give you a hint. It's red."

A smile curved slowly onto Brittany's face and she gave Santana a suggestive look. "Is it from that underwear shop?"

"Oh!" A squeal from up ahead made them both jump and look around. Santana realised that they were out the front of Breadstix- and that Mercedes had her face smooshed up against the glass. Beside her, Quinn, Rachel and Tina were moving to do the same.

"What? What is it?" Santana and Brittany stepped up to the glass too.

"Oh." Brittany said faintly beside her. Santana peered into the window- scanning her eyes around the restaurant in confusion.

"What? I don't… What are we looking at?"

"Third table on the right," Quinn said.

Santana flicked her eyes to the right and…

"Holy shit is that Artie?" Of course it was. It was a guy in a wheel chair wearing a knitted jumper. But Santana had only asked because of who she'd seen sitting opposite him, facing towards the window.

"This has to be a joke." Tina said, pulling back and shaking her head. "It's- he's been dared to or something!"

"This is so, so strange," Quinn agreed.

Santana screwed her face up, watching closely as Artie leant back in his chair laughing while Becky sipped coyly on her soda straw.

"It's kind of like watching the nature channel," she said.

"It _totally is_!" Mercedes laughed. "Oh my gosh this honestly just made my night. It's so whack."

"I think it is intervention time," Rachel said grimly, pulling away from the window to give Artie and Becky a pitying look.

"Agreed." Quinn nodded.

Mercedes was still cackling and shaking her head. "It's just so funny. Can you imagine them at prom?"

Santana pulled away from the window too and glanced at Brittany. She had already straightened up and was watching Mercedes laugh.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Santana admitted. "The little Wonka worker will have something up her sleeve. This will be Sue's doing somehow."

"Is this odd for you Brittany?" Rachel asked.

Santana rolled her eyes- an evening out just wouldn't be complete without the Rachel Berry Awkward Question Supreme. Despite that, Santana found herself sliding her eyes to Brittany's face, waiting and watching for her to answer.

Brittany didn't seem phased by the question. "I'm just wondering how they're going to travel." She admitted, bending back to look in at Artie and Becky. "I mean...I don't think she knows how to push a wheelchair so she'll have to like ride up in his lap but then they'll just look like they're off Aladdin."

"Aladdin? How Britt?" Tina asked.

"Well," Brittany bent closer still and pointed to demonstrate. Santana and the others moved back to the window.

"Aladdin," Brittany said, pointing at Artie. "And Apu," she finished, pointing to Becky.

This was too much for Mercedes who pulled away from the window, snorting and shaking.

"I think…" Quinn backed away from Breadstix, tugging at a doubled over Mercedes, "that we better get going before he sees us."

"I think so too," Brittany agreed. They began to walk away from Breadstix and after a beat, Rachel followed after them.

"Right, but we will organise this intervention thing for tomorrow at glee club right?"

"I'm already sending a group text to all the boys," Tina said looking down at her phone.

Halfway down the street Mercedes was still laughing. Looking around at the rest of them she grinned and shook her head.

"Thanks you guys. For this. It's really helped take my mind off everything."

"Thank Artie," Tina corrected her. Santana rolled her eyes and shot a sideways grin at Brittany as Mercedes giggles began mounting again.

* * *

><p><strong>2008, Brittany: <strong>

_They really shouldn't have driven home, Brittany knew that but she was too tired and Santana's car was cool and quiet and calm compared to the party. She snuggled against the car seat, closed her eyes and just waited. _

_Santana drove and didn't say anything until they pulled up into Santana's drive way and then she rubbed Brittany's knee. _

_"Can you get up?"_

_"Yep." Brittany lifted her head and opened her car door. Santana came around the car with her hands ready to brace Brittany but she didn't need help any more. Being sick had made her feel better, though her head was light and she knew that she was still drunk. Or at least fuzzy. _

_They walked past the dark shape of Brittany's bike on the lawn. Brittany's ride seemed like a million years ago- and she couldn't remember even why she'd wanted to ride it other than to get to Santana's house. _

_Santana's bed was better than the one at the party because it was huge and soft and it smelt like her. Brittany took off the dress and fell on top of the blankets, pushing her face up into the pillows. _

_She should brush her teeth and wash her make up off but she didn't think those were as important as enjoying the feeling of lying there. The mattress jostled as Santana laid down beside her. The warmth of her skin, so close to Brittany's, was some kind of soothing. Like soup when you're sick._

_ Brittany lifted her head to smile at Santana but she only saw the back of Santana's head. She was lying so close but they weren't touching. _

_Brittany wanted a hug and she wanted some water. _

_"Hey," she said softly, wondering if Santana was mad at her. _

_She watched Santana's shoulders shift as she swivelled her head around. _

_"Mmm?" _

_"You sleeping?" Brittany asked the question even though she already knew the answer but she didn't have anything else to say. It made Santana smile and then she shook her head. _

_"Are you?" Brittany grinned shyly back and shook her head. "Do you and Puck date?" _

_Santana frowned and then Brittany realised how random it had been to ask. She'd just thought of it and used it as her next thing to say so that they didn't stop talking. _

_"No we aren't dating. We just hook up at parties sometimes."_

_"But you used to go on dates right?" _

_Santana looked at her for awhile and then nodded. "Sometimes yeah, I guess."_

_Brittany took this in and thought about how she and Santana had kissed earlier. She wanted to kiss Santana now, but they'd never kissed when they were alone and Brittany was scared that if they did, there would be no noise to drown out how loudly her heart beat in those situations. It was so loud it was embarrassing. And sometimes it hurt as well. _

_"Do you think you and I should go on a date?" Brittany asked in a voice that didn't really sound like her own._

_It was like she was asking the opinion of a shop assistant about a new pair of jeans. Does this look okay? _

_But she would never ask a shop assistant the kind of question that made her want to run away before she heard the answer. She wondered if she could make it off the bed, down the stairs and onto her bike before Santana answered, but by the time she had thought about that the expression on Santana's face had already changed. And Brittany couldn't unsee that. No matter how hard she peddled. _

_Santana's face was all furrows and her eyes were hard and dark like when she was about to yell. _

_Brittany took her eyes away from Santana's and looked at the patterns on the blankets. _

_"Why would we do that?" _

_Brittany didn't know why and she'd hoped Santana would. But there was the obvious reason and so she said it, still looking at the blanket patterns. _

_"Because we kiss like you and Puck kiss and you've been on dates with him and you're a lot nicer to me than him so I thought that meant we could go on a date."_

_"You're kidding right? Don't act like…" Santana's voice was tinged with laughter. "How smashed are you?"_

_"I'm not that drunk," Brittany said, feeling her face get hot. "I just asked a question."_

_"A dumb question." Santana snapped- no longer laughing even a little bit. _

_"No question is dumb if you don't know the answer," Brittany said softly, echoing her 7th grade maths teacher, Mr Schwamm. _

_"But you do know the answer. So it is dumb."_

_"What's the answer then…"_

_"No Brittany." Santana said loudly- which was scary because their faces were so close together. "The answer is no and you should have known that. Don't ask those dumb questions. Jesus." _

_Santana rolled over then and Brittany turned her eyes back to the patterns on the bedspread- staring so hard at them she thought they might all come undone. _

* * *

><p><strong>Present day, Santana:<strong>

Because of Rachel's insistence that her vocal chords needed at least eight and a half hours of rest a night, the six of them didn't stay too long at the Lima Bean. But it was still dark by the time Santana and Brittany got back to Santana's. All the lights were all off and both her parents seemed to be already asleep.

Like they had done so many times before, Santana and Brittany crept up the stairs and slipped into her bedroom. Santana flicked the lock closed behind them and felt her way over to the bedside lamp.

When she clicked it on, the room appeared in a soft, golden glow. So did Brittany, who was standing near the end of Santana's bed, smiling at her.

"Can I see the thing in your pocket now?" She asked. Santana shook her head and jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

"Go get ready for bed."

"Then can I?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "If you hurry."

When Brittany had slipped out of her room, Santana tugged the brown paper bag from her pocket and glanced down at herself. She wanted to freshen up first. Damn. She should have been the one to go use the bathroom.

Deciding to use the main downstairs one, Santana slipped out of her room and headed there.

It fit, just like she knew it would.

The g-string slung low on her hips and the push-up bra squeezed her boobs up hard against one another in the way that she knew made her look effing hot. She smirked down at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth and then shrugged her coat back on for the walk back up to her room.

She snuck inside and saw Brittany sitting on the edge of her bed, in a white tank, brushing her hair. At the sound of the door she twisted around.

"Where'd you go?"

"Downstairs bathroom," Santana whispered, closing the door and padding over to her washing basket to drop her clothes in it.

She was a little nervous now and it didn't help matters when Brittany lowered her hair brush and looked her up and down, frowning.

"Where's your pyjamas? Are you sleeping in your coat?"

Santana didn't know how to answer so she just shook her head. Brittany frowned even more and placed her hairbrush on the bedside table, wigging around so that she was on the bed facing Santana.

"Did you get your buttons stuck? Do you want me to…oh…"

Santana had begun unbuttoning her coat- starting from the top- revealing bare collarbones and then…Santana's heart skipped a beat as Brittany took in the new bra- her eyes widened and her lips pressed together. Santana's fingers fumbled their way through the rest of the buttons and then she shrugged the coat off.

"Not a nightie," She said softly, stepping around to the side of the bed closest to Brittany. Brittany, following Santana with her eyes, shook her head.

"Not a nightie," she repeated softly.

Her hands reached out to Santana hesitantly- as though they hadn't been doing it since they were 16, as though Santana might flinch away at sudden movement. But she stayed where she was and watched hungrily as Brittany's palms flattened against her hips. Brittany's eyes darted back and forth between the two new pieces of lingerie- like she didn't know which one deserved most of her attention.

Santana placed her hands on Brittany's legs and tugged her around so they were dangling off the edge. Then she knelt up on the bed, straddling Brittany, curving her arms around Brittany's shoulders and up through her brushed out hair. Brittany ran her hands up Santana's back, her eyes all over Santana's chest which was level with her face.

Santana felt a shiver of pleasure- and a tug between her legs- as she watched Brittany gape.

"Wow," Brittany murmured- her eyes still all over Santana. "You are…"

Santana tucked her hands under Brittany's chin and tilted her face up, kissing her deep and slow. Brittany's hands tensed on her back and Santana curved her body hotly into Brittany's.

After a few moments of kissing messily, Brittany caved backwards onto the bed and Santana followed her down- not breaking contact with her lips. Brittany moaned into it as Santana reached around, took one of Brittany's hands off her back, and pressed it between her legs.

The friction that the lace made between Santana's folds and Brittany's fingers chased Santana's breath away in a rush- and she had to break the kiss to try to catch it again.

Up till now, or only a little while ago, sex with Brittany had been all about need, not adventure. It would be Santana turning to her in the dark- caught up in her smell and the feel of her- desperate because Brittany was the only release that Santana knew. Touching her, being inside her- it offered the same disconnection from the world as plunging underwater.

And it had scared the hell out of her for so long.

But tonight she wasn't scared. She wasn't rushing or fumbling or drunkenly chasing the taste of Brittany in the dark.

She was on top of her _girlfriend. _In _lingerie_.

Brittany's fingers had pushed aside what little of the material was across Santana and were slipping up and down the length of her- exploring- rubbing in circles. Santana twitched as they grazed back and forth- tantalisingly gliding around her clit.

She dropped her head into hollow of Brittany's neck and let out a muffled moan. Another of Brittany's hands was at Santana's breast- kneading her nipple through the lace and Santana shuddered against her as pleasure shot through from both the places Brittany touched.

"You're so… you're so…" Brittany kept saying, but she never got around to telling Santana what she was because Santana reached up and jerked one of the lacy cups of her bra down so that her breast was bare. Then she lowered her nipple to Brittany's lips, arching her hips harder against Brittany's still rubbing fingertips.

After a few dizzy moments of Brittany's mouth on her nipple and her fingers on her clit, Brittany pulled her mouth off of Santana and guided their faces back level again. Santana opened her mouth hotly and sunk into another kiss. Then, just as their tongues met, Brittany pushed her fingers inside Santana.

At the feeling, Santana groaned loudly onto Brittany's tongue and gripped the sheets under her hands tighter. Everything felt like it was rushing past her- the pounding of her pulse in her ears, the jagged alternation of their breathing and the wet sound of Brittany moving her fingers back and forth inside Santana.

"Look at me," Santana heard from somewhere far off. She opened her eyes and looked blearily around at Brittany.

Their gazes connected and then Brittany was filling her more than before- with three fingers- and the sting and the pleasure rose and mingled together. Santana felt her mouth gape open, and her hips jarred hard downwards. Blind-sided by how good it felt, Santana lost the strength in her arms and collapsed- putting her whole weight against Brittany- the rocking motion of Brittany's arm made both their bodies move in time.

Brittany paused after a moment and pulled out. Then Santana felt the wet grip of Brittany's fingers on one of her thighs as she began to twist her body out from underneath Santana.

They rolled around until they were laying on their sides, Brittany spooning Santana from behind. She snaked one arm underneath Santana's shoulder, curving her hand down to gather a palm full of Santana's breast through the bra. The other- the one with the wet fingers- nugded the back of the knee of Santana's top leg- guiding it to bend. Then, Brittany reached her hand around and slipped inside Santana from behind.

Santana cried out- her teeth colliding and lashing down on the exposed skin of Brittany's forearm beside her face. It was a new angle- and Brittany's fingers were reaching a whole new place, igniting a pounding, swelling rush all around Santana's abdomen. As Brittany moved in and out of her, she pressed herself hard up against Santana's back, notching her chin over Santana's shoulder, breathing heavily into her ear.

"This...this okay?"

Santana bit down harder on Brittany's arm and felt her eyes roll back as that familiar sensation began to shoot through her nerves- locking her limbs into place- making all her muscles jump and try to scatter.

When the damn broke, Santana didn't know if she was making noise. Brittany's arms were clutching around her body- pulling her in tight and Santana could feel that but was aware of nothing else as all of her other senses faltered in the few long, rolling seconds of her orgasm.

When things tumbled back into place around her, Santana found herself gasping for breath- sweaty, shaky and exhausted. She dropped back against Brittany and bumbled around so that she was facing her- tucked into her arms.

Santana placed her lips against the material of Brittany's tank top and tried to slow her breathing down.

"Wow…" Brittany said faintly, moving a hand to swipe away the hair that had stuck around Santana's face. Santana laughed shakily and nodded, lifting her head up and kissing the underside of Brittany's jaw.

"Warm now?" She croaked- her voice still recovering. Brittany bent to look down at her and widened her eyes, nodding vigorously.

Brittany's arms were a warm cocoon and Santana felt like she'd just run half way across the country to get there. She nuzzled in closer- draping an arm around Brittany's waist so she could trace a finger lightly over the exposed skin of Brittany's lower back.

Brittany shuffled around to get more comfortable and yawned- the movement rocking Santana with her.

"You've made me so sleepy now," She said.

Santana, on the crest of her own yawn said, "me too."

"We've never done it like that before, have we?"

Santana shook her head, knowing what Brittany meant. Santana had never been so submissive- never been so mouldable in Brittany's hands.

"I really liked it," Brittany admitted. The wash of hot air on Santana's scalp meant that Brittany had her face pressed into her hair.

"I liked it too."

"It's funny how people concentrate so much on the first times in relationships being all about the very first kiss or the very first sex or the first date and stuff. But there are way more cool firsts I think. Underappreciated ones like the first time you pee in front of one another…"

Santana laughed. "We did that at cheer camp way before we were dating."

"Yeah. Or the first time you cook together. Or dress up for one another…" Brittany tugged playfully at the strap of Santana's bra. "This whole proposal assignment for Mr Schue is fun but I've decided that there are so many more things to look forward to in a relationship."

Santana pressed her lips back against Brittany's top and inhaled her smell.

"Like what?" she asked sleepily.

"I just told you. But also like… the first time you realise you know their takeout order by heart. Or the first time you waste a whole day together just because. Or, or the first time you miss them or...or… the first…"

Through the sleepy haze that was drooping low over Santana's brain, she remembered something.

"Or the first double date?" She asked.

Her head jilted back and forth from the movement of Brittany nodding.

"Uh-huh. There are so many more firsts than people realise."

"We better get that one out of the way then."

"What one?"

"The double-date one," Santana said, yawning again and rolling her eyes as her head jilted again. Brittany had pulled back to look at her.

"Wait, really?"

Santana shrugged. "Why not? You must have caught me in a good mood."

Brittany's face shifted into a proud smile.

"So, you're asking me out on a date?"

"Well, technically, Kurt asked _us _out. But I guess yeah, this is me saying I'll go."

Brittany's face was so close to her own that all Santana could see was a blur of features and the bright, bright blue of her eyes.

"So the answer is yes?" Brittany asked.

"Yes, the answer is yes," Santana nodded, planting a kiss on the end of Brittany's nose and then shrugging the sheets up around her shoulders. "Now lemme get some sleep before I change my mind."


	19. Neverland

**Here's the chapter corresponding to the Michael episode- 3x11. **

**Thank you all for the continued interest! :) As always, you guys are the best ever. **

**And I actually have a favor to ask those of you who know stuff about Latin/Spanish culture in America or speak Spanish- I'm gonna need your help for the next chapter! **

**Sooo. If anyone is interested just PM me. I basically am just looking for a few people who would be willing to answer any questions that come up as I write the chapter- because I want to stay as authentic as possible to Santana's experience and...to be honest...I'm like lower than Mr Schue on the Spanish ignorance scale coz NZ doesn't have much to offer in the way of Spanish culture. **

**Thanks in advance and now I'll let you get on to reading :)**

**Hope you enjoy it! **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 19: Neverland<strong>

The cuffs on Santana's leather jacket were clenching so tightly around her wrists that she could feel her skin raw growing irritated and raw.

The car park around her smelt like dampness and car fumes.

And...

Artie kept quoting Henry Ford western movies.

But none of these things could take the edge off the adrenalin threading through her veins.

The swell of emptiness and the shadows and the flickering overhead light at the far end of the car park all added to the tension. And, even through Santana knew they had at least twenty minutes before the Warblers were due to arrive, she kept straining her ears for a change in the calm of the dark space- for the skid of a foot on concrete, or hushed voices.

"Okay, okay everyone. How's everyone feeling?" Blaine asked, rubbing his hands together and shooting a grin around at them.

"I need to pee," Rory said.

"It's kind of chilly in here," Tina added, rubbing her arms.

Santana pulled her eyes away from monitoring the entrance ramp and rolled them towards Rory and Tina.

"You both need to harden up and quit complaining. This is _us against them._ And if we want to do Michael for Regionals then we have to bring _Bad _harder than they can."

"Already brung," Puck quipped, jerking his hips forwards.

Everyone rolled their eyes away from him.

"_Bad _being the operative word there," muttered Quinn.

"Okay, okay guys." Finn stepped up and turned to face them, clapping his hands. The sound echoed disconcertingly loudly around the car park and Santana saw Brittany jump in fright, peering up at the ceiling, looking for the source of the noise.

"We gotta do something to get us pumped for this. Like really…" Finn shook his fists, "really pumped."

"We could run laps?" Sam suggested, "like warming up for football?"

Santana had heard enough. She snorted and shook her head then took a step up beside Finn.

"Go back…just...go on…" She muttered to him, nudging him to fall back into the group.

She signalled to Kurt and Blaine to come and take his place up beside her.

"Alright. This is how it gon be," she flicked her hands out, her eyes roaming around the others. "While I do agree that Mr Potato Head and Super Sport Ken have a point about getting pumped- I don't think getting tired and sweaty is going to help us in a sing off. Doing Michael isn't anything like playing football- except for the slightly homoerotic outfits. It's going to require some serious angst. Hence why I've nominated us three," she motioned to herself, Kurt and Blaine, "to run this thing. Seeing as we have the most reason to want to place that Sebastian dude's cheek against the concrete and enjoy the satisfying sound of his nose meeting the steel cap of a boot, I think it's fair for us to take the solos. "

"Oh, oh. No. No, no." Kurt held up his hands, pulling his mouth to the side and wincing. "Santana, while I just _adore _the leather get-up I-I just really shouldn't take the lead in this. I have an allergic reaction to confrontation which makes me cry and I can't multi-task tears and fierce very well."

"Well...alright." Santana travelled her eyes over the others. "Anyone else want to lead the _Bad-_assery with Blaine and I?"

There was a small beat for silence and then Artie's wheels flashed through the shadowy space as he rolled himself forwards, one leather gloved hand raised in the air.

"Me," he said quietly.

Santana knew not to ask why. She just nodded and smirked as he settled into place on her other side.

"Good. So. Let's discuss how exactly we get our _Bad _on…"

"Wait! Also!" Rachel rushed forwards, stopping right in front of Santana and swivelling around the rest of them. "Before we get into all that stuff we need….vocal warm ups!" She announced enthusiastically. "Now, I'll lead us through so on my count…a three, two, one…"

While Rachel led them up and down the scale, Santana took the opportunity to glance over at Brittany who was standing between Mike and Puck.

She was only half-heartedly singing and her eyebrows were squiggled with worry.

Abandoning the scale, Santana veered around the others and tugged her back a few paces.

"What's wrong?" She ducked head to catch Brittany's gaze in her own.

Brittany jerked her shoulders up and down and then swung a nervous glance around the car park.

"Did you ever see the Indian in the Cupboard?"

"The movie?"

"Yeah. And you know how he puts his little toy Indian man inside it and leaves him over night and when he opens it in the morning the Indian is alive?"

"Uh...yeah," Santana tilted her head to the side in confusion.

Brittany shrugged again. "After that I don't really trust dark places where you keep things over night."

"Hey now," Santana pouted. "That doesn't sound to me like you're thinking with your MJ attitude."

Brittany looked sheepish. "No, guess I'm not."

"No, you aren't. Because Britt, if you were, you'd remember that nothing in this car park is as scary as Finn in that leather jacket." She jerked her head behind her and pulled a face. Brittany give a small, reluctant chuckle.  
>"So, stop worrying about the cars coming to life and start thinking about how Michael would challenge the Warblers, okay?"<p>

Brittany nodded slowly, her mouth squirming to the side as she considered.

"Well...seeing as he lived in Neverland he'd probably say what Peter Pan said to Captain Hook- that he'd fight them "_man-to-man, with one hand behind my back._""

Santana beamed and tilted her head, reaching out to tug on the sleeve of Brittany's jacket.

"And," she pointed out, "with _you_ in leather, bringing your _Bad, _we'll beat them with both hands behind our backs."

Brittany's smile glanced as brightly around the car park as Artie's wheel lights had. She threw herself forward into Santana, pulling their bodies together hard.

"Tonight," she murmured in Santana's ear, "you're going to be _my _Peter Pan."

"You two! Hey, you two! This is really no time for little love trysts in the dark!" Santana cringed at the sound of Rachel's voice and disengaged from Brittany.

"Lower your voice Berry. You're giving the children in the neighbourhood terrible nightmares of shrill, over-controlling clown dolls."

"Very funny Santana," Rachel snapped sarcastically. "This just isn't the time for…"

Santana froze and held up a hand, jerking her head around to the entrance. She'd caught the sound of footsteps, the low vibration of voices.

"They're coming," she mouthed- gesturing wildly to the far wall, slanted in darkness by a nearby light where everyone but she and Blaine were supposed to wait.

They slunk quickly away towards it as she and Blaine headed to the nearest concrete post and leant against it together. Everyone was silent, all breath baited in throats while they listened to the sound of the Warblers coming farther down the ramp.

Santana glanced over her shoulder at Blaine.

"You good?" She muttered. Blaine had his eyes fixed on the Warblers shadows that were warping on the wall of the car park.

"Uh-huh," he said through gritted teeth.

"Good. Oh and," she turned back to him. "Just by the way, I dibs doing the finger flick."

* * *

><p>When Finn's Mom handed Santana her hot chocolate, she did it smiling warmly into her face. It only made Santana feel worse and she dropped her gaze, trying not to think about the fact that she'd taken this lady's son's virginity. Or that it had been right up there in the list of things that had scarred Santana for life.<p>

"Thanks," she muttered, when Carole had moved passed her.

"Aw, thanks Mrs H," Brittany smiled, taking her own hot chocolate and handling the situation much than Santana had.

She was the one all the parents liked.

Every seat in Finn and Kurt's living room was taken up by the New Directions. Mercedes, Tina, Mike and Rory were haphazardly piled on one couch. Quinn was squeezed between Puck and Sam on another. Santana and Brittany had an armchair to share and Artie had wheeled his chair beside them. Finn, Rachel and Mr Hummel had pulled some of the dining table chairs over.

No one seemed to want their hot chocolates, except Brittany who kept pushing her finger against the mini marshmallows floating on top- making them bob up and down.

Santana sank further back in the chair and cupped her palms around the mug, letting the heat wash up her body.

Finn was giving Mr Hummel a play-by-play of what had happened in the car park- right through till Rachel called the police and Kurt drove Blaine to the hospital.

"It all just… happened so fast," Finn said in disbelief. "Like one minute we're singing Bad right up in one another's faces and then Blaine is screaming on the floor in a pool of slushy."

"It all happened in the blink of an eye," Rachel added grimly, staring into space.

Santana fought a grin at the irony and snuck a glance around at the others to see if anyone else was as horrible as her. She was comforted when she noticed Puck and Quinn staring pointedly in different directions, both their mouths twitching.

"What the hell could he have put in that slushy though?" Mercedes asked.

"Maybe he got frost bite," Brittany suggested, licking melted marshmallow off her finger.

"What if...What if he goes blind?" Finn muttered, his voice wavering. Santana looked over in alarm to see him with his head bent and his ears red. Rachel was clutching one of his hands and Mr Hummel clamped a hand on his back.

"We won't know till we know," he said gruffly. "But Blaine's lucky to have so many people who care about him and who will support him. And that's what counts okay?"

Santana dropped her eyes from Finn and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She felt shit for Blaine, sure, but how bad could someone get hurt from a slushy?

She tried to distract herself from the twisting in her stomach by looking over to watch Brittany play with her hot chocolate but she saw that Britt had lowered her mug to her lap and was staring at Finn with her eyes glittering and her mouth wobbling in tears. Santana's stomach twisted even more.

Everyone fell silent after that. Burt put the TV on low so that at least they'd have something to look at. Santana stared blankly at it while the commercials rolled.

They all jumped when Finn's phone lit up and began to ring on the coffee table. With lightening reflexes that Santana could have sworn he'd never used during his whole football career, Finn snatched the phone off the table and stared down at the screen.

"It's Kurt," he said dumbly.

"Answer!" Rachel flapped her hands at him.

"Huh?" Finn started. "Oh, right, yeah. Hell- hello? Kurt? Hey...yeah what's… how is he?"

Everyone watched Finn take in Kurt's end of the conversation.

"Okay...uh...yeah." Finn brought a hand to his mouth and pinched his lips between his fingers. "Okay, I'll tell them. Hang in there okay? I'll pass you to Burt…"

Mr Hummel took the phone and left the room while Finn turned to them.

"Kurt said it's pretty serious but no one can tell them yet what exactly is wrong. They have to wait and do some special eye test thingy in the morning. And he said thanks for sticking around but he's going to ask Burt if he can stay at the hospital overnight so you guys don't have to stay and be tired for school tomorrow."

Everyone unfolded themselves from their seats and filed into the kitchen to return their mugs. Carole wouldn't let any of them help her wash them up so it left them with nothing else to do but head to the front door- sorting out who would ride with who.

"You'll text us if there is any change, right?" Tina asked asked Finn as they trailed out onto his front lawn.

"Yeah, of course," Finn nodded from the door frame.

Santana and Britt were halfway down the path when Brittany tugged her hand out of Santana's.

"Wait a moment," She said, threaded her way back between Mike, Artie, Quinn and Rory to approach Finn. Santana looked back and watched Brittany stand on her tip toes and put her arms around Finn's neck.

"That's for you to give to Kurt," Santana heard her say. "Tell him that unicorn tears don't heal people like Phoenix tears do so he shouldn't cry but just be brave because he's really good at that."

Finn gave a small laugh and smiled glumly at her. "I'll be sure to pass that all on, Britt."

The drive back to Brittany's place was a quiet one. Santana guessed that like her, Brittany and Rory were still wondering what the hell could have happened to Blaine. Their _Bad _plan had backfired- that was for sure.

She and Britt said good night to Rory and Brittany flicked the hall light on so he could find his way down to his bedroom. Once he disappeared inside she flicked it off again.

They stood together in the dark for a moment and then Brittany moved up closer to Santana.

Santana reached out and tucked a loose bit of hair off Brittany's cheek.

"Tired?" She asked in a whisper.

"Not really."

"Me neither," admitted Santana. She felt too wired to sleep. "Wanna watch a movie?"

Brittany nodded, her expression brightening slightly.

"Alright, go pick one," Santana said, stepping back and nudging her towards the lounge.

Brittany disappeared through the door and Santana heard a couple of bumps and creaks before she reappeared- holding up a Meet the Parents DVD. Santana reached out for it.

"I forgot where the light switch was so I had to feel around the DVD rack and I just grabbed this."

"It's fine," Santana said, looking in surprise at the preview pictures on the back cover. Ben Stiller looked _young._

While Brittany went to make herself a comfort bowl of Lucky Charms in the kitchen, Santana headed upstairs and got into Brittany's bed- pulling her computer onto her lap and starting up the DVD.

Santana's attention drifted away from the laptop- which refused, no matter how hard she jammed the 'skip' button, to fast forward through the ten year old 'new release' previews- and swept around Brittany's bedroom.

Santana loved Brittany's room.

She loved how Brittany's childhood was still cluttered on her bookshelf- her collection of Babysitters-Club books, her baby bunny ornaments, her soft toys. The little ceramic jar with a fairy on top where all her baby teeth were kept, a brick that Brittany had painted on the side of when she was 7- a sunset, a flower, a dog and a big, pink 'B'.

Santana also loved the way that the grown up Brittany spilt out of her closet and dresser drawers- the short dresses, the lacy underwear, the discarded high heels and perfume and make up.

It was like Brittany had never had that big clean out that every other kid did. Th one that came one summer when they hit puberty decided to change their bedroom to reflect their newly sophisticated tastes- like alcohol and pop-punk boy bands.

But Brittany's bedroom, like Brittany herself, was a tangle of the best bits of childhood and maturity.

Santana was in the process of bringing her eyes back to the laptop when a change in Brittany's photo wall caught her eye.

It was only a slight adjustment, but if you were Santana- who had analysed the _Santana:Everybody Else_ photo ratio on that wall more times that she cared to count- it was a change you didn't miss.

The photo of Britt and her sister dressed up as clowns had been unstuck and moved over to the right. While the photo beside it- of Britt, Tina and Quinn dressed up in their Rocky Horror costumes- had been moved to the left.

In the space created between the two photos Brittany had stuck a new one.

Britt had asked the waitress who'd just delivered their drinks to take that photo. Santana had hardly realised what was happening until Brittany had looped her arms around her neck and tugged her away from the straw of her coke to look at the lens.

Santana remembered rolling her eyes and making a fuss. She remembered Brittany ignoring her and pressing leaning over to press her lips hard against Santana's cheek.

And it had been at that moment that the flash ricocheted around the table.

Santana had glanced briefly at the preview of the photo when Brittany got the camera back. She'd tossed her head and gone back to her coke- disgusted at how chubby her face looked all squished up.

But seeing it up on Brittany's wall- considering it longer- Santana began to understand why Brittany liked it so much.

In it, Brittany had her eyes closed, smiling through the kiss she was stamping on Santana's face.

But her smile was nothing on Santana's who was grinning so hard at the camera that her her eyes were scrunched in her cheeks. They were lit up and sparking.

Santana could recall the feeling of Brittany's laughter humming through her lips onto Santana's cheek, the soft wave of her perfume that had crested over. Santana remembered feeling love pressed hard up against her chest. Santana remembered wanting to turn her face and meet Brittany's lips with her own

And her face in the picture gave all that away. That's what Brittany must see- it was so glaringly obvious.

Because the moment when the picture was taken had been upon them and then over so quickly, Santana hadn't had time to notice how Blaine and Kurt had posed on the other side of the table.

But with that moment frozen before her now, Santana turned her eyes to take them in. They were both grinning at the camera- looking far more composed than Brittany or Santana.

Their hands were clasped together on the table top- between their drinks. They were both white knuckled from holding on so tight.

Slowly, Santana switched her gaze back and forth between she and Brittany and then Kurt and Blaine. In a different way, Kurt and Blaine's faces said everything Santana's did.

They all looked like they were right where they were supposed to be.

A lump was beginning to tighten itself in the back of Santana's throat- which she realised had been building since Finn's house. She looked at the picture of the four of them for so long it went sort of fuzzy from her tears.

_Tears_?

Santana shook her head and scrubbed her fist against her eyes.

She didn't even know what had made her cry.

Blaine would be fine, and she didn't think she'd even cared this much about him.

As for the photo- it wasn't like looking at it had brought bad memories. She'd enjoyed that double-date- even if Brittany would have to pin her down and tickle her senseless to get her to admit to it.

Santana looked up at the sound of the door edging open and watched Brittany slip inside.

She'd changed into loose grey sweat pants, a white tank and blue and purple fluffy socks, washed her make-up off and scooped her hair into a low, loose pony tail.

She tightroped walked across the room to the bed- her eyebrows furrowed low on her forehead as she concentrated on balancing her cereal bowl and two glasses of orange juice .

Santana trailed her eyes over all of Brittany- trying to pick out what it was about her that had suddenly eased all the heaviness in her chest.

"Juice?" Brittany's voice made Santana start. She drew her eyes up to the glass that Brittany was extending to her.

"Thanks." Santana put it down on the bedside table and pulled back the blankets for Brittany to slide underneath.

She waited until Brittany had settled into the pillows and was halfway through her first spoonful of Lucky Charms before Santana told her that she loved her.

Brittany didn't even wait to swallow before telling Santana she loved her back.

* * *

><p>Santana had never told anyone, but before Quinn Fabray had gone and gotten herself pregnant, she had been Santana's idea of perfect.<p>

She had been everything Santana wished she was.

Santana had wanted to be like Quinn so badly that she had begun to hate herself because she wasn't.

She had been fascinating- sweeping in from God knows where and having McKinley bowed down and trembling at her feet in all of five minutes.

It seemed to Santana that Quinn had her own centre of gravity- like she was some kind of sun that burnt and blistered and exerted such force that you couldn't help but spin around her.

And as hard as Santana tried, she just wasn't quite as bright.

Santana had to flick up the hem of her skirt up and grant below the bra access to get even half the guys that Quinn had to obsess over her. And all Quinn had to do was flick her eyes away from them and finger the cross on her necklace.

Of course, watching Quinn get pregnant and out-crazy everyone just to regain some of her control had put Santana off wanting to be like her. It had put her off to the point that she actually wanted to vomit a little every time she remembered.

And the last thing Santana ever expected was to feel that way about Quinn again.

But sitting in the choir room, it came back so hard that Santana felt like she'd been cracked across the back of her head with a baseball bat.

_"I, I got into Yale." _

And blindly, Santana was smiling. She was smiling so hard she thought her face would split in half. And she was the first out of her seat, the first to Quinn's side, the first with their arms around her and the last to let go.

But the whole time, she couldn't really breathe. She couldn't really hear through the blood rushing past her ears.

"Yale! Yale! Yale, Yale Yale!" Mercedes and Brittany were chanting and clutching onto Quinn's arm- pulling her out of the choir room and down the hallway.

"Celebratory coffee at Lima Bean! My shout!" Tina exclaimed, skipping after them, tugging Santana along too.

Then, just as they reached the double doors, Santana felt like she might be sick.

She halted so quickly that her sneaker squeaked against the linoleum and everyone turned to look at her.

"I've got to go...I've just remembered… I have to talk to Coach…" She stumbled vaguely over her words. "I'll just- I'll meet you there soon."

She summoned up her best grin, tossed it at their feet, and turned to walk back down the hall.

As the sound of the others chanting and laughing echoed away, Santana lost her momentum and stopped. She stood there, alone in the hallway- breathing like she'd just lost a running race.

College was the road that you automatically placed yourself on. It was supposed to be the most obvious transition from school.

But no one- no one with jobs or money or actual grown up lives- warned you about what it felt like to move further into the world. No one ever mentioned the massive brick wall made of GPAs and open days and applications and scholarships and expectations that towered above you.

Santana had just slammed smack bang into it.

She felt hot panic blooming in her chest and the strangled beginnings of sobs. Taking a stoic breath, she pushed herself onwards down the hall- not really knowing where she was going.

It was a pamphlet stand outside Miss Pillsbury's office that she smacked into next- walking with her head down. The force made one whole rack shudder and drop to the floor- spilling a stack of identical white pamphlets all over the floor at her feet.

"Fuck."

Santana bent down and began shoving them messily back into a pile and pushed them back into a free slot on the stand. It when she pulled her hands away from them that she noticed their front covers.

The top half was covered in a picture of a cartoon homeless man huddling underneath a bridge. Underneath it, the caption blared: '_Or...there's college!_'

Santana stared at it and then reached and slipped one out of the rack, turning it over to look at the back page which was covered in bullet pointed paragraphs that Santana felt too overwhelmed to read.

She looked into Miss Pillsbury's empty office and noticed a wooden box hooked onto the front of the door. The bright, printed sign tacked above it read _'Appointment Requests'. _Beside the box was a neat stack of small blue cards.

Santana picked one up and frowned down at it.

_Name:_

_Preferred date and time:_

_Subject of Appointment:_

Santana raised her eyes and stared blankly at her own faint reflection in the glass.

Then, with precision that she knew would have impressed Miss Pillsbury, Santana folded the pamphlet and the little blue card over and over again into one another- until they were one thick, tight wad. She shoved them deep into the pocket of her Cheerios jacket and carried on down the hall.

* * *

><p>She <em>had<em> intended on posting it. That was why when she got home she'd unrolled the blue card from the pamphlet, flattened it and filled it in. That was why she'd written down a list of questions to ask Miss P on the back page of her history homework. That was why she had been walking down the corridor in the first place- heading to Miss P's office to put it in the stupid slot.

But if she had really intended on making an appointment, why had she thrown herself head first into Kurt's deppresso about Blaine?

She'd stopped when she'd seen him alone in the class- looking like he was about to start weeping- but that was because she wasn't a complete heartless robot.

Wasn't it?

But what had possessed her to take the plans for revenge so completely off Kurt's hands?

Sure, Santana enjoyed completely decimating someone's sense of self-worth as much as the next person- but that didn't explain why, on her way out of the class room, she'd pulled out the blue paper slip from her jacket pocket and tossed it in the trash.

She said goodbye to Kurt and hung a sharp left down another corridor- walking with her eyes trained pointedly forwards as she passed Miss P's office- as though if she looked over she'd see all the little homeless men on the pamphlet rack judging her.

She could see Artie up ahead, leaning into his locker.

"Hey," she said when she stopped in front of him.

Artie jerked his head back and swivelled his chair around, looking horror struck.

When he caught sight of Santana, his expression lightened.

"Oh-thank-god." He pressed a gloved hand to his chest. "I thought you were Becky."

Santana raised her eye brows, bristling.

"You thought I was…" she shook herself. "Okay, imma let that one slide but only because you might actually be useful to me for once in your life. "

Artie huffed a sigh and shook his head.

"Santana, we've been through this. It's _illegal _for me to give you a copy of my disabled parking pass."

"And while I still think that stands as solid proof of your lameness, it's not what I need you for."

Artie frowned up at her. "It's- it's not?"

"Nope." Santana crouched down in front of his chair and lowered her voice. "Now, keep calm and not jizz your adult diaper while I tell you this... I need you for a wee spy mission on that little creepy weed Sebsatian."

"My chair creaks,"Artie said, shaking his head. "I'm not your man."

Santana laughed. "No, no. I'm the one who is going to be going into the field. You're just going to be...like the awesome fat techcy guy in action movies that lives with their Mom and supplies the hero with all their gadgets."

"Uh-" Artie looked sceptical.

"Look, after me, you're the most _MJ_ of anyone in the glee club. You get what he's about and can actually sing his songs without making them sound like something off _Singin' in the Rain_ like Blaine and Rachel."

This brought a small smile to his lips, and he travelled his eyes over her face.

"I do bring the King," he said softly. "Alright. I'll do...Wait...what do you want me to do?"

Santana smirked and stood up, heading off down the hall.

"Roll with me this way," she called over her shoulder, "and I'll explain."

* * *

><p>Santana decided during her awkward walk down the path to the Dalton Academy car park, that the last thing that had felt this awful between her legs had been Puck's tongue. Sebastian had hurled the slushy at her neck and face- yet somehow it managed to slip its way down her body and pool in her underwear and around her thighs.<p>

That, however, was the least of her worries. The slushy had also slid deftly inside her bra and coated the tape-recorder.

Even though she'd torn the tape away and pulled it out from under her boob the minute the Warblers left, and tried her best to wipe it down, the syrup was starting to congeal around the buttons.

She hadn't been able to get it to play back yet, but figured she better just keep it safe from anymore damage as she walked- so she slipped it into the dry pocket of her blazer and looked up ahead to the car park she came to the end of the walk way.

From the shadowy corner where her car was, Santana heard a metallic thud of a car door and hurried footsteps. Santana squinted and saw Brittany jogging over to her, her features taunt in worry.

"It's slushy! It's just slushy!" Santana called, motioning at her chest.

"You look like...I thought you were bleeding!" Brittany exclaimed as she came to a halt in front of Santana, inspecting her carefully."It's just slushy?" She ducked her head to Santana's eyes. "You sure? Can you see okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. They just got me with a regular slushy."

Brittany's expression dipped from anxiety to anger.

"I can't believe they did that. Who the hell...Did you go all Lima Heights?"

"Well I'd just _destroyed _Sebastian in sing-off of Smooth Criminal so I think that counts. Plus," she fished the recorder out of her pocket and waved it back and forth in Brittany's eye line, "I got him to tell me what he put in Blaine's slushy."

Brittany's eyes widened. "You did?"

"Uh-huh. Rock salt. Hopefully this thing still works so that we can actually prove it," She said, trying to rub more of the wetness off it and then stabbing the 'rewind' button.

Relief flooded through her as the tape warbled backwards and then, when she hit play, the sound of her raised voice rattled the small speaker.

"_I was better, now, tell me the truth. What did you put in that slushy?" _

_"Rock salt. But it's okay…"_

Santana hit stop and was ready to look up triumphantly at Brittany when suddenly her body was jerked backwards as Brittany launched herself towards her.

"Babe," Santana laughed, taking steps back and trying to struggle out of the hug. "You'll get slushy all over you."

"So?" Brittany pulled her face back from over Santana's shoulder and kissed her on her sticky mouth.

Laughing beneath Brittany's lips, Santana kissed back- still trying to lever her wet front away from Brittany's.

But Britt wasn't having a bar of it- she rolled her body harder against Santana- both hands cupped around her cheeks, tilting Santana's face so that she could slide her tongue deeper into her mouth.

"Mmm," Brittany said after a few breathless moments, pulling away and smacking her lips.

"It was cherry flavour- my favourite."

Santana laughed again and then bumped her hip against Brittany's- shunting her towards the car.

"Come on. Home. I'm packing an iceberg in my undies."

Santana's parents were both home when they arrived back- which meant the bath with Santana that Brittany had been amping for the whole car ride home was a no-go. Instead, Santana had to go solo in the shower to discover all the places the slushy had crept to.

She turned the nozzle hot, cleaned herself off and then stood under it for longer than she needed to- enjoying the feeling of the tension ebbing from her muscles and being replaced by a new swell of anticipation from knowing that Brittany would be waiting in bed for her.

Santana had to muster all her self-control to not run straight from the shower to her bedroom. She knew that the longer she prolonged it, the better it would be. So, she brushed and flossed her teeth, combed the ropy, wet tangles from her hair, put on a fresh t-shirt and pair of underwear that she brought from her room, moisturised her face and then, her whole body tingling, clicked the light off in the bathroom and padded down the hall way.

There was a faint slither of light coming from under the crack in her door. It wasn't bright enough to be from her main light so Santana guessed that Brittany had turned on her bedside lamp.

Holding her breath from anticipation, Santana creaked the door open and saw that she was right- Brittany had pulled Santana's curtains, gotten them both bottles of water from the fridge downstairs, turned the lamp on and hopped into one side of the bed. She'd even pulled the blankets down on the other side for Santana.

Santana walked further into the room and shut the door behind her, grinning like an idiot. Brittany looked up from her lap to smile back.

"Hey," she greeted her softly, trailing her eyes over Santana.

"Hey yourself," Santana replied, dropping down onto the mattress and wiggling under the blankets.

"Whatcha got there?" She asked, nodding down at the paper that Brittany had on her lap.

Brittany looked down.

"Oh," she said, folding it up and showing Santana the cover. "I found it beside the bed when I...What?" Brittany faltered as Santana snatched the '_Or...there's college?_' pamphlet out of her hands.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Brittany asked in alarm as Santana gritted her teeth and ripped it clean in half- separating the homeless man from his bridge. She tossed the pieces down the side of her bed.

"It's stupid," she muttered, tugging the blankets up to her chin and sliding down on the pillows.

Brittany rolled over on her side, propped herself up on her elbow and looked at her.

"I don't think it is," she said quietly.

Santana skittered her gaze over to Brittany but then dropped it away again.

"It's just a dumb pamphlet. I meant to chuck it anyway."

"Why?"

Santana huffed a sigh and threw her gaze to the ceiling.

"It's just dumb."

"Thinking about your future isn't dumb. It's forward thinking and smart."

"It just seems...well, let's just say that I get why MJ and Peter Pan wanted to hide out in their Never Never Lands.

Brittany jerked her head back, frowning.

"Wait...coz you want to get away from everyone saying you touched their little kids or because you don't want to grow up?"

Santana smiled at the ceiling.

"Mostly the second one."

The mattress jostled and Santana felt Brittany come closer. Her hand was picked up off her stomach and cupped between Brittany's.

"Why are you scared?"

Santana frowned and shut her eyes, taking a breath.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "I guess it just seems like such a big step and I don't know where to start. And everyone's like...already applying and getting into places and I just…" She shook her head to clear the waver from her voice.

After a pause she looked across at Brittany.

"Aren't you scared?" She asked in a small voice.

Brittany shrugged.

"I think everyone should be a little scared. And you say you don't know where to start but you don't realise that you already _have_ started. Getting the pamphlet- even if you ripped it up- it still counts. And there are so many people to help you figure stuff out. You know, like...Miss P and Mr Schue and Coach Sue…"

Santana snorted.

"...and your Mom and Dad and J.K. Rowling and well...there's me, too."

At that, Santana felt tears rising in her throat.

"I'm-I'm scared of not always having you," she admitted in a strangled voice, looking back up at the ceiling.

Brittany didn't reply for a moment. Instead, she tucked herself closer into Santana, laying her head on her chest and curving her arm around Santana's waist. Santana pressed her face into the top of Brittany's head and inhaled the scent of her hair.

It was infinitely comforting.

When Brittany spoke, Santana couldn't see her face, but she felt the words vibrating against her ribs.

"I'm scared of not always having you too. But that's how you're supposed to feel when you love someone."

Nodding against Brittany's head, Santana took a steadying breath.

She tried to hold on to the space of time around them. She tried to clamp the lid down and shut away this moment where she could feel Brittany against her, smell her hair, hear her voice.

It deserved to be felt for longer. Enjoyed again and again. And used to chase everything else away.

* * *

><p>Even though Santana was still smarting from Kurt's dismissal of her genius spy mission she let herself be dragged by Brittany to the auditorium.<p>

She and Brittany were the last to arrive on the stage and they fell into the back of the semi-circle that the others had made around Kurt.

"Seriously though," Santana started saying to anyone who was listening- which was mostly only Brittany, "if it were Kurt that had stuck his neck out and got that tape I guarantee that everyone would be wetting their pants and throwing a friggn baby shower for his new born balls-"

"Santana," Mercedes whispered warningly. "Shh."

Santana rolled her eyes around the auditorium and crossed her arms- already preparing to mentally black out through Kurt's speech.

"Okay guys," he started, sweeping his gummy smile around them all. "Firstly, I…"

"Hey, where's Rachel and Finn?" Artie interrupted, glancing around.

"Oh, it-it doesn't really matter," Kurt said dismissively. "They already know what I'm planning."

"Of course. Rachel has the nose of a blood hound when it comes to lessons in morality," Quinn said.

"Rachel has the nose of a blood hound. Full stop," Santana scoffed.

"Alright, alright!" Kurt flapped his hands over the scattered laughter to draw their attention back to him. _"Firstly, _I…" He spun on the balls of his feet and smiled meekly at Santana.

"Santana, I owe you a thank you. Because putting yourself on the line for…me…well, no, for _us _all, really, was a really _Michael _thing to do. And it just shows how far we've all come as a family- and how you've learnt the lesson that I want to now try teach the Warblers."

Kurt started a clap, smiling at her and the others joined in.

Santana rolled her eyes, annoyed that her face was getting hot and that she was grinning. She shook her head and sniffed a small laugh.

"While I do think that all the hair spray you use has made you so deranged that you don't see a frigging _epic _opportunity to crush these guys, when you're presented with one, I will say," She tipped her head in a small bow, "you're welcome."

"Always so gracious Santana," Kurt said, a small smile playing on his lips.

"So, what's the lesson then?" Sheasked. "I mean, I'm worried that I don't know- seeing as I've supposedly _learnt _it already."

"Acceptance," Kurt held up his hands and shrugged "Learning to love the people around you for who they are. Putting other people before yourself and caring about them."

Santana tilted her head. "Huh."

"Ah, I think I'm onto this," Sam said, nodding slowly in Kurt's direction.

"Well, it _is _what MJ would do," Kurt shrugged again, backing up to the stereo that sat on the edge of the stage. "I picked a song of his- no, _the _song of his- that has always taught that lesson the best."

He bent down to the stereo and punched a few buttons. "Oh, and…" he added over his shoulder, "the band will be here soon for when we actually sing it to the Warblers."

He hit play and stepped back, watching them expectantly as the song began.

"I knew it would be this!" Sam exclaimed, grinning and clapping along to the beat.

There were scattered whoops as everyone else realised what the song was and began to clap and dance too.

Santana stood amongst them, stifiling a smile as she watched Mike leading Mercedes and Quinn through an impromptu moonwalk, and Kurt grabbing his crotch and doing the MJ hip thrust.

Artie was wheeling himself around in circles, holding up one hand in the air and calling, "prrrreeeaaccchh it MJ, preach it!"

The music swelled and Santana was now laughing openly at everyone dancing. Then, she was shoved sideways.

Composing herself, Santana wheeled around and caught sight of Brittany wiggling her hips close, mouthing the words to the song and smiling coyly at Santana.

"_But, if you're thinkin' about my baby, it don't matter if you're black or white."_


	20. La Cucaracha

**Note:**

**Hey guys! Chapter dealing with The Spanish Teacher episode. **

**Big shout out to everyone who helped me with all things Spanish- I really, really hope I did it justice. **

**Enjoy. **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 20: La Cucaracha<strong>

It was useless taking her Spot the Dog picture books to her Abuela's house. Santana had learnt that by the time she'd turned five. Her Abuela would just screw up her nose at them and tell her she couldn't read English.

Santana couldn't read yet either but she knew that her Abuela was telling lies because Santana had seen her read the TV Guide and the Bible.

But Santana didn't mind that she didn't get to hear Spot the Dog when she went over to stay because her Abuela told her better stories. Well, they weren't really stories- they were words- but Santana felt like they belonged in the place where stories came from.

Her Abuela twisted the world that Santana was used to. She made sure Santana knew that even the littlest things could be different to what everyone always said they were.

For example, leaves weren't leaves- not the ones on her Abuela's trees any way. They were _hojas_. And the grass wasn't actually grass, it was _pasto_. And the flowers, they had _pétalos_ instead of petals.

Santana grew up with Spanish words flavouring her conversations with her parents and her relatives- but she was never able to escape the fact that her Abuela was the one that carried the words properly- that connected with them and fleshed them out and used them to put beauty in the most unexpected places.

At high school Santana only took Spanish as a subject because she was guaranteed an easy A. Granted, if she went to Spain she'd probably be about as competent with the language as a five year old , but for all intents and purposes, at McKinley she was fluent.

It should have been her easiest class. It should have been a piece of cake.

But the minimal amount of effort she had to put into the lesson meant that a lot of the time her mind was free to wander. She'd only have to catch a snatch of a word in Spanish- awkwardly executed but still enough to set her memory running.

The details would always pull focus first- the threadbare arm of the couch- worn away by the mugs of tea her Abuela always sat there. The distinct smell of the spare room- the red rosary on the wall and the toy dog with black button eyes who was stiff and scratchy from not being hugged enough. It was the only toy that her Abuela kept at her house so Santana used to play with the fridge magnets- rearranging them around the Dominican Republic flag which had been stuck there for so long that the tape had begun to turn yellow.

_"La Cucarachaa! La Cucaracha, La Cucaracha…"_

Santana started, jerking her eyes upwards to the classroom door which had just flown open. Artie, Puck and Finn, lead by Mr Schue, shimmed into the class. Santana's eyes bugged at their sombreros and ponchos .They looked like they were part of some kind of cheesy commercial for _'Authentic Mexican tequila- made and bottle in the U.S.A'. _

"Oh jesus…" Santana muttered, hovering her eyes around them all in disbelief.

Finn approached her, waggling his maracas in her direction and shooting her an encouraging grin. The fact that she mimed being sick didn't seem to phase him and he veered away to shake the maracas in some other poor bastards face.

With three jerks on Puck's guitar and a resounding "cha!", the song finally ended. They stilled, arms out theatrically, grinning around the class. Mr Schue was the first to collapse out of his end pose with a breathy, awkward laugh.

"Woo! Okay guys, give it up for the El Spanisho Amigos!"

A couple of people brought their hands together once or twice. Santana was not one of them.

Puck, Artie and Finn's grins faltered.

"Uh...uh...So that…" Mr Schue stuttered, attempting a recovery. "That was a prelude to the very special event I've planned for next weeks Taco Tuesday! It's the annual class dinner where we get to try some authentic Latina food!"

He leant over his desk to grab a stack of papers and began walking through the isles, putting one in front of each student.

"Um. Sorry. Mr Schuster?" A girl in the front row waved her hand in the air, frowning down at paper that she'd been given. "Why do we need permission slips to go to Taco Bell?"

"I just ditched first period to go there," a guy sitting in front of Santana muttered.

"It's school protocol guys," Mr Schue was saying as he reached Santana and placed her permission slip on the desk in front of her. She frowned down at it and then laid her palm flat, curling her fingers inwards so that the paper crumpled into her fist.

"Mr Schue," she raised her free hand.

"Yes Santana?"

"Can I use the bathroom?"

"Oooonly if you ask me in Spanish!"

"Necesito salir de aquí," she muttered, sliding out of her chair. _I need to get out of here. _

"Very good…" Mr Schue said distractedly, waving a hand and then adding in Spanish, "_jump off."_

Santana stared at his retreating back, her lips curling in disgust. Then she picked up her bag and pushed past Artie, Puck and Finn towards the door.

* * *

><p>The heavy set old lady that was supposed to be Principal Figgins assistant was sitting at her desk- yelling into the microphone of her headset.<p>

"I got him, A5! I got him but cover me, cover me!" She was jamming the buttons of her computer key board furiously.

"Uh…" Santana waved a hand in front of her face.

The woman glanced up, huffed in annoyance and then ripped one of the ears of her headset sideways.

"May I help…" Something made her switch her eyes back to the computer screen. "What? No, no, no no! Hold on!" She began stabbing at the keyboard again. Santana rolled her eyes and walked straight passed her to Figgins door where she could see him through the glass, sitting at his desk.

"Principal Figgins?" She asked, clearing her throat.

He glanced up.

"Miss Lopez? Did you speak to with Ms Crane at the front…"

"Sorry, I just came right through. She's kind of busy…"

Principal Figgins leant sideways to look around Santana and then shook his head.

"I've told that woman time and time again…" he huffed a sigh and then turned his eyes back to Santana.

"Anyway, Miss Lopez, what can I do for you?"

Santana squeezed her fist more tightly around the Taco Bell permission slip.

"I want to know how I go about laying a formal complaint against one of the teachers at this school."

Principal Figgins's eyes widened and he leant back in his chair, panic etching itself across his face.

"A formal...who...Look, Miss Lopez if you've been touched in your special parts...Miss Pillsbury...She'll handle...She- she has pamphlets…" He was a stuttering mess, his accent cluttering the words up even more.

Santana held up a hand to slow him down.

"God. Okay, no. No one touched me….and I don't...I don't need pamphlets. But, I _am _disturbed."

Principal Figgins closed his slack mouth and stared at her blankly.

Fed up, Santana rolled her eyes and motioned to the free chair in front of his desk.

"May I?"

"Of course, of course," He muttered faintly.

Santana pulled it out, perched on it and then laid her free hand flat on the desk between them.

"Look, Principal Figgins, I get that this school manages to stick to it's budget because we employ community service workers in the cafeteria and only serve real food there on Thursdays. And I…"

"Now Miss Lopez," Principal Figgins interrupted, holding up a hand. "I must stop you there to point out that things have become much better since Mr Motta has started paying us to overlook the fact that his daughter Sugar Motta studies Twilight in every class she takes. I mean we now have toilet paper," he ticked off on his fingers. "And light bulbs, and a working fire alarm system. All in all, I think you can hardly complain."

He leant back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking at her smugly.

Santana narrowed her eyes and twitched her head to the side.

"While that may be so, all the Q_uality Education Institution _points you gained during that little spiel of yours are sort of void considering that the Spanish teacher at this school can barely get through a lesson without," she rolled her eyes jauntily to the ceiling and ticked off on her own fingers, "referring to prison, piñatas or making it a personal goal each lesson to offend as many Latina cultures as possible. Even the ones he doesn't know exist."

Principal Figgins trailed his beady eyes over her face.  
>"Our Spanish teacher is William Schuester," he said slowly.<p>

Santana widened her eyes and gave a slow nod.

"Uh...yup...I know…"

"Well, I thought that you liked him because he teaches you in your singing club."

Santana squinted at him, shaking her head in disbelief. She could feel her anger surging up to get the better of her and she gritted her teeth to fight the bulk of it away. Then she tossed her scrunched up ball of a permission slip onto the desk between them.

"He wants to take us on a class trip to an _authentic _ Spanish themed dinner. At Taco Bell."

She rose to her feet as Principal Figgins picked up the permission slip and began to struggle to pull it apart.

"So," she continued, "do I like him? No, no I don't really like him at this moment. And seeing as you never actually answered my question about how to lay a formal complaint I'm just going to assume that this counts as one."

She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her Cheerios jacket and turned on her heel, walking out of his office and passed his assistant who was still calling frantically into her headset.

"On the right, on the right A9. Yes...yes...YES!"

Santana tried to walk calmly down the hall- but thowing paper at your Principal and storming out of his office didn't exactly carry the same effect as aroma therapy.  
>To give her adrenalin threaded hands something to do, Santana pulled her phone from her pocket and pressed a button to light up the display. She was still able to smile faintly at the picture of Brittany sticking out her tongue that she'd taken of herself last night and set as Santana's wall paper.<p>

Brittany was the person that Santana was going to call, Santana knew that already. But something made her click into her contacts list instead of just holding down Brittany's speed-dial number.

She didn't need to scroll far at all- only past one name, Aaron- until she got to '_Abuela- Home_'.

Santana wanted to act as if it was any other day- after any other crap Spanish lesson. She hovered her thumb over the 'call' button, mentally running through the things that her Abuela could be doing. Santana could picture her in her garden- bent over the concrete path to the washing line and pulling the weeds out of the cracks. Santana knew that even if she was outside, she'd have brought the cordless out and balanced it on the railing of the decking.

_"Yes?" _

_"Abuela, it's Sant…"_

_"_Sí, _I know your voice." _

_"I just had Spanish class."_

_"Is it that time again?"_

_"Yep. Today we were treated to a fun little performance of La Cucaracha and then invited on a class trip to enjoy a traditional meal at…"_

_"Taco Bell," they said together. _

_"Silly, silly man," her Abuela muttered again as they both broke into laughter. _

_"I know. I swear I could teach that class better than he could." _

_"With that accent of yours? Don't be stupid."_

_"At least I know the Spanish word for white board. He keeps telling us he's written up today's lesson on the front door." _

_"Alright, alright. He needs a hard smack around the back of the head. But they are all the same. So just get your easy A and stop talking on your cell phone because you'll get tumours. Goodbye."_

_"Abuela…"_

"Babe?" Brittany's voice came breathless into her ear through her phone speaker.

"Wait...What? Britt?" Santana blinked in surprise, pulling the phone away from her ear to double check the name on the call screen.

Brittany's voice came in a small buzz."You called?"

Santana put the phone back to her ear and caught the sound of Brittany taking gulps of air.

"You're- you're out of breath," Santana pointed out blankly, her thoughts still scrambling to catch up with the situation.

"Uh-huh. A bunch of us are having Cheerios practise in our free period."

This ratcheted Santana's brain to life.

"_Cheerios practice_? Why didn't I know about this?"

"It's for Coach Roz. We're learning a number to show you and Becky and Coach Sylvester."

"Coach Roz?" Santana frowned. "As in the swim coach?"

"Uhuh," Brittany said brightly. "She keeps on talking about our 'behinds' and how she'd going to treat them like a stain in a Clean-n-Brite commercial."

"What the hell…"

"I don't really understand what she's saying because I get distracted by her lips. But anyway, why'd you call?"

Santana shook her head and shrugged and then remembered that Brittany couldn't see her.

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Wait, aren't you in Spanish right now?"

"I'm ditching," Santana decided aloud.

"But it's Taco Tuesday! Artie told me," Brittany pointed out.

"Yeah well Taco Tuesday also happened to coincide with Tacky Tuesday so I'm out."

"Oh." Brittany faltered. "Well, I would say come and watch but it's supposed to be a surprise and it'll totally be worth the wait!"

"That's okay, I'll find something to do."

"Alright, bye babe!"

"Bye."

Santana drew the phone off her face and watched the screen flicker as Brittany disconnected the call. She always felt the absence of Brittany's voice after they talked, but today it felt worse than usual.

She bit her lip and glanced down the hallway to the door of her Spanish class. She could hear a chorus of people repeating some indistinguishable word after Mr Schue and then the shimmer of Finn's maracas and a loud 'cha!'. Santana squeezed her eyes closed in horror and shook her head, deciding to take it as sign. Then she spun back around and walked briskly to the car park, trying to remember what time exactly the manicurist down the road opened.

* * *

><p>The next day, Santana realised how grateful she was to Brittany for not letting her come and watch Coach Roz's Cheerios practice.<p>

Firstly, because it meant that her nails- for the first time since she and Brittany had both sat down with nail clippers and performed the lesbian rite of passage- actually looked pretty. They were still short, but at least they were shiny and smooth and French tipped.

The second reason she was grateful was because the rehearsal would not ever have held the same beauty as the actual performance- simply because it would have been absent of the look on Coach Sylvester's face. And Becky's excited imitation of a baboon mating ritual.

When it was over and Coach Roz dismissed the dancers to the showers, Santana bobbed up out of her seat and jogged over to Brittany who was wiping her face with a towel.

Santana, excited like a seven year old, pressed her feet together and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Nice," she said once Brittany lowered the towel and looked around.

Brittany's grin struck up so suddenly that the gum nearly flopped out of her mouth. She darted her tongue to the corner of her lips just in time and slurped it back in.

"You really liked it?"

Santana pursed her lips. "You could say that," she said mildly.

"I gots ma swag owwnnn," Brittany pouted and made awkward gangster signs with her fingers.

"Go get your swag ass in the showers then," Santana laughed, shunting Brittany with her hip. But her amusement stalled when she caught the look that had changed Brittany's face.

It was lit up with an idea and coy with it's half-possibility.

Santana narrowed her eyes. She knew what was coming and she broke the suggestion at it's stem.

"Na-huh. There's no way I can sneak in with you. Everyone will be…" She broke off as Brittany's look grew even more coy and more confident.

"They'll already be in the showers anyway. Just...come on…" She tugged Santana forwards briskly.

The changing room was full of steam and echoing voices but the changing bay was deserted. Santana and Brittany's bags were the only ones left on the benches.

Brittany shifted her eyes sideways to Santana and raised an eyebrow.

"No," Santana said, shaking her head. "Brittany…"

Brittany ignored her, hooking both their bag straps up onto her shoulders and walking away around the jut of the lockers to where the showers were.

Santana's bag had her cell phone. Her wallet. Her _car keys. _She sort of had to follow Brittany. Option two was sitting on the benches and waiting while her bag got to have all the fun.

Brittany had left her cubical door ajar but Santana paused and glanced up and down the steamy row of shut doors on either side of it.

She could hear two Cheerios sharing a shouted conversation about the pros and cons of wearing bras to parties and another few were singing a muddled Jessie J medley.

Santana turned her eyes back to the cubicle door in front of her, watching as it twitched open a little more to allow Brittany's hand to snake out and grapple in the air in front of Santana's crossed arms.

"I see your shoes," Brittany called softly through the crack.

Rolling her eyes and batting away a smile, Santana unfolded her arms and caught Brittany's hand in her own.

After Brittany had tugged her inside and shut the door- swinging the lock into place- they stood together and shared a smile. Brittany's smug. Santana's exasperated.

Behind the curtain, the shower was already thundering. Brittany stepped back, dropped the towel wrapped around her and drew back the curtain- shooting Santana one last smug look before she tugged it back across the rail and disappeared.

The steam hit Santana full in the face when she slipped in past the curtain a few minutes later and she had to blink several times until she could see Brittany properly- facing the back shower wall- rubbing shampoo through her tangles of hair. As she twisted her arms up, her back muscles flexed. Santana trailed her eyes up Brittany's body- wanting to just watch her- take in every drop of water that glided down her skin.

But she wanted to touch her more.

She reached out through the stream of water and pressed her palms against the rise of Brittany's hips. Her skin was hotter than the water temperature and smooth like a wet stone. Brittany stilled and dropped her arms from her head, taking a step back until her body was fully pressed up against Santana's.

When she dipped her head back to rest against Santana's shoulder, Santana noticed that the smug smile still hadn't faded.

Santana wanted to laugh at that, but instead her breathing caught in her throat and then quickened.

Not wanting to miss a single inch of skin, Santana drew her hands slowly up Brittany's sides and around across her stomach- whose muscles flickered at the touch- and then up to her breasts.

Santana filled both her hands with the weight of them and then bent her head, sliding her lips against Brittany's neck.

Santana tasted mostly water- but Brittany reacted to the touch like Santana's mouth contained voltage. A shiver juddered her spin harder against Santana's front and she felt Brittany's nipples shrink to points under her palms.

"Santana…" Brittany breathed.

Santana shushed her and placed her lips- open and hungry- back against the flexing tendons on Brittany's neck. She pinched one nipple between her fingers and dragged her other hand down Brittany's body.

Brittany was twitching and rolling against her touch and Santana felt her own nipples stiffen into Brittany's back. She ghosted her hand over Britt's belly button and further, further down until her fingers peeled apart the folds between Brittany's legs and dipped into a wetness that was so much more slick and urgent than the falling water.

At the feel of it, Santana had to pull her lips back off of Brittany's neck and clench them down on the top of her shoulder - so that her moan turned into merely a hum against Brittany's skin.

Her fingers bumped across the folds and she edged them down to the sweltering dip. Brittany flexed harder against Santana- reaching around to grapple hook her hand through the hair on the back of Santana's head and then curve it against her scalp.

Santana felt the burn of Brittany's insides like all every single nerve in her body ended in her finger tips. She angled her arm further around Brittany, pushing her fingers further into the long, wet, slip of her- trying to pick up a rhythm.

But as she jerked her fingers in and out Brittany's body became barely controllable- she arched and gasped and made it harder for Santana to catch the right angle.

Frustrated, Santana dropped both her arms- unravelling their bodies. At the loss of contact Brittany spun to face her and wasted no time settling her hot kiss against Santana's lips.

Brittany's mouth contained the same kind of heat as between her legs and Santana felt her own insides twitch and twist as she caught the curl of Brittany's tongue against her own.

They backed up until, with a wet '_fapp', _Brittany's back collided with the shower wall. Their mouths climbed desperately against one another and the heat of the water and the banging of the other cubicle doors and the wafting voices and laughter all heightened the urgency.

Brittany's thighs were spread open- Santana could feel the press of them on either side of her own upper legs. With the stream of water beating behind her, Santana reached her hand back down to where it had been before.

From the better angle, Santana could push deeper against the soft swell of skin that she'd felt inside Brittany earlier. She curled her fingers- edging against it once- twice- until Brittany's mouth slackened amidst their kiss, her body hunching over Santana's in pleasure.

There was less noise around them now- Santana could hear their own shower dripping more intricately when before it had just been a part of a steady hum.

Their own sounds became heightened too. The soft smack of their lips against one another, the quickened rasping of their breathing- Brittany's staggering and turning occasionally into a guttural moan.

Santana tried to kiss Brittany's noises away but they also excited her so much that she surged her fingers deeper- harder, faster. She felt Brittany's nails digging and raking down her back, and her body bending, contorting as she struggled against the gravity-esque pleasure trying to pull her too soon over the edge.

"Oh, god...Santana...oh…"

"I know baby," Santana hushed her.

_"Sand-bags?"_

Brittany and Santana jumped apart so fast that Santana nearly fell over- twisting around and making a desperate bid for the curtain to keep herself upright.

"That you Sand-bags?" There was a muffled thudding.

"Uh…" Santana coughed away the squeak in her voice. "Yeah, Coach. It's me."

"You've been in there so long I was worried your weave had gotten wet and you'd decided on impulse to check out of this cruel, cruel world."

"Uh, no...just…" Santana stared despairingly at the shower curtain right in front of her nose. "Just... shaving my legs."

"Alright well get out, rescue Brittany from whatever corner of the room she's stuck in and come out to help pack up the pom-poms and construct a plan to subvert the congealed, loud, and only half-deciferable rage of a fat-lipped black woman who's just found out that someone slipped a triple dosage of hormone enhancer into her morning rum and coke."

"Okay, uh-huh," Santana called back- only half registering what Coach Sylvester had said through the panic in her pulse. She clawed the curtain out of her way and stepped down into the cubical, taking gulps of it's thinner air to calm herself down.

She picked her towel up and plunged her face into it and then heard the water shut off and the curtain glide open behind her.

When she looked up, Brittany was wrapping a towel around her own body and looking at her sheepishly.

"Whoops," she mouthed.

* * *

><p>Santana still hadn't quite recovered from the bathroom incident as the bell rang for lunch. She tried not to think too hard about it as she picked up her tray of food and wound her way through the student clustered tables- trying to spot her friends.<p>

She didn't have to look for long because of course it would be them inhabiting the table in the middle of the room, responsible for all the shrillness- c/ Rachel Berry.

Santana rolled her eyes and made her way over to them, plonking herself and her tray down between Sugar and Quinn.

"Well, hello," Kurt said, smiling dreamily across at her.

"...hey…" She shot him a funny look. "Why are you so zen with the universe?"

"We've been discussing Mr Martinez," Rachel said from beside Kurt.

"And his fine Spanish butt cheeks," added Sugar. "Which, by the way, I have dibs on.

Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Don't you like him Santana?" Mercedes asked through a bite of her cookie.

"Oh, by the way Santana, Brittany told me in second period to tell you that she wouldn't be at lunch today," Tina said, looking glum.

Santana looked up. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Tina huffed a sigh. "She and Mike have to spend the whole of it practicing a routine or something. "

The news didn't phase Santana, but she became slightly alarmed as she took in the look on Tina's face.

"Jesus christ Chang- You're acting as if they got shipped off to war."

Tina stared down at her tray, her mouth squirming. Santana shot a look around the others for confirmation that this insanity was actually happening.

"Tina, hey, don't- don't cry…" Mercedes said, patting Tina on the back gingerly.

"It's just…He usually gives me at least four hours notice before he has to do something and I just...I haven't prepared for not having him around…"

"Oh dear god…" Santana muttered, staring at Tina. It was like driving past a car crash- you know you shouldn't look because it'll be awful and disturbing but something about the tragedy was magnetic.

"Just close your eyes and think of Mr Martinez," Kurt said, pointing a chip at her. "_Trust me _when I say that it is very distracting."

Tina sniffed and nodded, accepting the pressed white handkerchief that Rachel gave her.

"You know- I never actually realised that Spanish could be that sexy," Quinn mused. Glad to have something other than Tina to look at, Santana and the others turned to her.

"You're right Quinn, Mr Schue always kind of made it seem like Spanish people were like," Rachel shrugged, "drunk all the time and creepy."

"I didn't want to do this assignment. Because our cleaning lady is Spanish and she scares me," Sugar said. "But Mr Martinez…" She pursed her lips and trailed off into a high pitched giggle.

"A-anyway," Rachel said, leaning forwards. "As much as I like Mr Martinez I think that this lesson is a bit of a waste of time when we have Regionals coming up. So, I've been thinking I'll just resurrect _Don't Cry For Me Argentina_ and use that so I can concentrate on drafting a set list."

"Hey!" Kurt batted a hand at her. "That's what I was going to do!"

"Duet?" Rachel exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

"Eee!" Kurt nodded in excitement.

Santana glared at them, feeling her cheeks tinged warm with annoyance.

"Hold on. _Don't Cry For Me Argentina?" _

"Uh...yeah…" Rachel said, nodding at Santana like she was retarded.

"You're going to sing Argentina's national anthem?" Sugar asked.

Santana looked between Sugar, Rachel and Kurt and shook her head, giving a breathy laugh.

"Please say you're all just screwing around."

"No, _Don't Cry For Me Argentina _is the perfect song to sing…"

"It's lazy." Santana snapped.

"And, it was written by two British guys," Mercedes pointed out.

"Yeah, but who will really care about that when they hear mine and Kurt's…"

"_I'll care," _Santana snapped. "I really can't believe I'm hearing this. You just have no idea do you?"

"About what?" Rachel asked.

"About anything!" Santana spat. "You don't give a crap that it may actually be important to some people to have the places that they come from remembered properly and not...not distorted by people's stupidity."

"Woah...Santana…" Mercedes reached over and put her hand on Santana's arm.

"...I'm...I'm sorry if I offended you," Rachel back tracked. "It's just- well we don't really know any songs that would be appropriate."

"Yeah. For me it was either _Don't Cry For Me Argentina _or the Speedy Gonzales theme song," Kurt added.

"It's not that we don't care Santana. But it all just seems so complicated," Quinn said softly. "I mean okay, the Spanish song bit isn't the biggest challenge but then Mr Schue started talking about dwarves and it just went downhill from there."

Santana opened her mouth, ready to retort- her defences still firing from all cylinders-when Sugar cut in.

"Oh. My. God. Guys, everyone shut up and listen because I've just had the best idea in the history of ever." She spun to Santana, pointing a celery stick at her. "You should sing a song with Mr Martinez and like… Be all sexy and Spanish together."

Everyone had turned to look at her, their faces alight as they caught onto Sugar's enthusiasm. The carrot stick that Santana had been chewing suddenly felt overly thick and chunky on her tongue. She struggled through a swallow and then shook her head.

"No way, there's no point…"

"There so is!" Mercedes argued. "You two would be the perfect people to do this."

Santana dropped her eyes to her tray and concentrated extra hard on opening her juice box. There was a beat of silence around her before Kurt wondered aloud if they'd be able to find David Martinez's teeth commercials on YouTube- which sent the rest of the table into trills of excitement.

Santana let the talk flow around her and tried not to think about how watching Mr Martinez in the choir room the other day had made her happy and sad all at the same time. Sure, she'd danced and laughed and loved every moment of watching Brittany's ghetto alter ego, but it had also been tinged by something. Some kind of odd longing- like she was supposed to be somewhere but she wasn't sure where that was or how to get to it.

Hearing Spanish on the lips of someone practised like Mr Martinez had made Santana ache. Not in the way that Sugar or Quinn or Kurt did, but in a sad sort of way. He could have been one of her older cousins or her uncles and it had made her think of the Christmas she had missed- with everyone jumbled around the living room- laughing and eating too much and swearing at one another for buying the same presents as last year.

Her head was still down as she concentrated on ripping the soggy cardboard opening of her juice box when she felt the warm sweep of a hand across the back of her neck. She rose her eyes and saw Brittany circling around the table away from her to the free seat beside Kurt.

"Hey guys," she grinned around at them

There was a squeal and Tina vaulted up off her own seat as Mike appeared beside her. Preferring not to see them attempt sex with their tongues, Santana turned her eyes to Brittany and watched her interaction with Kurt. Everyone was too loud for Santana to pick up exactly what they were saying but Kurt was pointing to the tub of jelly on Brittany's tray and said something that made her grin.

Santana blinked slowly, not wanting to miss the way Brittany looked- her cheeks flushed from her rehearsal and her hair whisping out of her ponytail to fuzz around her head like a soft, gold aura. She slid her knuckles across her nose, said something else to Kurt, plopped a chip in her mouth and then looked up to Santana.

They both caught the other looking and ducked their heads, grinning. Santana felt herself relax with that smile and she wanted to go to Brittany and lean on her and smell her- her deodorant and the sweet natural smell of her skin. She knew it was weird, but the smell of Brittany was some sort of sedative that untangled her thoughts and eased her.

Brittany fluttered her eyes away from Santana as Quinn spoke to her, but it looked to Santana like Brittany was still trying to see her out of the corner of her eye. Santana didn't look away, her grin widening.

Santana knew without having to ask, what Brittany would say about her doing a performance with Mr Martinez. She would try not to smile too wide or let the excitement twitch onto her face because she recognised all the reasons why it was complicated for Santana. She'd use her soft voice, her soft grasp- to tell Santana that it was okay- just to do what she needed.

When the bell rang Santana dropped into place by Kurt as they sidled up with the rest of the school to stack their food trays.

"Hey, you have Mr Martinez's number right? Seeing as he helped you guys out with the Mexican hipster boots?"

Kurt's head shot sideways and he pouted at her moodily.

"No, Finn wouldn't let me have it for some ridiculous reason. But I can get him to text it to you."

"Thanks," Santana reached the bin and clattered her tray down on top of the stack. Kurt followed suit.

"Hey…" He spun on his heels and looked like he'd just discovered some secret of the universe. "Does this mean you're going perform with him?"

Santana rolled her eyes away from him.

"Congratulations Inspector Gadget, well solved."

* * *

><p>You'd think that up close, the smile would have been less perfect. That you'd be able to see a crook in one of the teeth, or a stain.<p>

But nope- it was just more blinding. And frustrating because Santana really was trying to listen to what Mr Martinez had to say- but her eyes kept drifting down to those freaking teeth.

Santana was alone with a guy, noticing his smile and getting butterflies.

Not how she'd spend a typical Thursday afternoon.

And she actually was beginning to wish that the butterflies were being caused by Mr Martinez instead of the awkward clutch of reasons she had for their existence.

Shaking her head slightly, Santana tried to bring her concentration back to figuring out what he was saying to her. But then with a twinge of alarm, she realised that he'd stopped talking and was leaning against the desks, looking at her all polite and expectant.

"S-sorry?" She blurted.

"Oh, I...I just asked where your family come from."

"Oh," she blinked. "Um the Domincan Republic mostly- but it's a mix."

Mr Martinez grinned. "And who taught you your Spanish?"

The question made her flinch, even through she tried to keep herself still.

"My parents speak it." She said, cutting away all the words that contained the pain.

"Oh okay," Mr Martinez nodded, smiling good naturedly.

Something about that god-damn smile made her carry on.  
>"But my- my Abuela took teaching me the most seriously." She said it quickly. Like ripping off a band-aid. "She used to take me to church when I was little and make me speak the words she'd taught me. Showing off to the other old ladies about how her American <em>nietita<em> wasn't completely without hope."

Mr Martinez threw his head back and belly laughed.

"That's very good."

"Huh, yeah, guess it is," Santana admitted, trying to laugh along but it jammed in her throat.

"You're very lucky to have your Abuela," he said- that smile still showing. "I cannot remember my own because she died when I was very young but I imagine that they would help you connect the dots back to where your family came from. Especially if you have never been there yourself."

Santana recycled her laughter from before- dragged it back up and out of her mouth until it burst awkwardly into the room.

She tried to recover- "Yeah, yeah. It's good."

Mr Martinez's smile flickered.

"Sorry...did I...did I offend you?"

"No!" She corrected the overly loud tone of her voice, "no."

He narrowed his eyes. "Okay, if you're sure. Entonces, ¿qué canción querés cantar?"

_So, what song do you want to sing? _

Santana faltered at the Spanish. She knew what it meant but, like in the choir room, the sound of the words sunk into her like an ache.

"Are there any Spanish songs you were thinking of…" Mr Martinez prompted when she forgot to answer.

This made Santana falter again because she had never really sung the Spanish songs she knew. She hadn't been even been properly taught them.

She'd heard them during the sick days she'd spent at her Abuela's- when neither of her parents could stay home with her. They would float to her over the hum of the TV. Santana's hearing would prick up at the sound - even if her ears were blocked from a cold. She'd carefully inch the volume of the TV down and lay her head back- listening to her Abuela sing while she made lunch.

Santana could never do for those songs what her Abuela could. She made the words twine together effortlessly- so that the meaning came not directly from each of them- but from the whole sound of it all together. Once Santana had asked her if she would sing to her- but her Abuela had only flapped her hands and pretended that Santana was insane.

The songs were so beautiful that Santana never understood why they had to be lied about. And she always thought they sounded out of place- being sung in that voice for only the simmering pots or a crossword or the wet washing being hung on the line to hear.

On the nights when Santana stayed over, her Abuela would coax her to the cusp of sleep by telling Santana to turn onto her tummy. Then, she would sweep slow, rhythmic circles around Santana's back. And on some special nights, before Santana dropped off, she'd hazily hear that voice again- threading a tune through a whisper.

Santana would fight sleep to hear that voice. She'd wade back through her dreams and and try her best to keep her eyes alert beneath her eyelids.

But she was always asleep before her Abuela stopped singing.

Santana wasn't crying, but she also wasn't quick enough to keep the sadness off her face. And she knew Mr Martinez had seen it because his smile dried up. He pushed up off the desk and stepped closer to her.

"Santana, are you alright?"

Santana nodded, shrugged, and then shook her head. After a pause she looked up at him and almost laughed at the confusion on his face.

She took a breath- hoping she'd find the words in it, already formed. But it just gushed hollowly into her lungs and she knew they'd have to come from somewhere else.

"Mr.. Mr Martinez…"

"David," he corrected softly.

"I don't see my Abuela much anymore. Because…" She took another breath, and tried to stop her mouth jerking into tears. "Because I'm gay."

To his credit, David Martinez barely let a reaction to Santana's words show. After a moment, he tilted his head and warped his lips into his mouth by sucking on them thoughtfully.

"And," Santana continued, "that's why I need your help with this number. Because I'd usually have...well, she's the one…"

She stopped to compose herself but the silence pressed to hard up against her. "But I haven't really thought about what songs," she started again. "I mean I brought my iPod but I don't…"

"Santana," Mr Martinez interrupted her. He hadn't once looked away from her face. "I am very sorry about your Abuela."

"Thanks." It was all she could think of to say.

"You know, it's funny because Mr Shuester told me that this glee club lesson was about trying to overcome ignorance. But there are so many ways to be ignorant. Too many, I think, to be noticed. And on top of that, most people are ignorant of their ignorance- which is the hardest thing to overcome. People get trapped into them without even knowing. You're Abuela…She's…she's a God-fearing woman, Sí?"

"And a neighbour-fearing one," Santana added.

David nodded. "Perhaps it is because she had to be. She could have been taught that she'd have to work her hardest to earn respect, to make her way in this country. Ignorance happens when we're not looking. When we look left and right but don't check our blind spots. Your Abuela…Look, forgive me if I'm assuming too much…"

"No," Santana managed, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. "No, you're not."

Mr Martinez nodded and pressed his lips together. She could see in his face that he was sad for her. She didn't want to cry so she dropped her gaze to the floor and watched as Mr Martinez's shoes shifted closer to her. The warm cup of his palm was on her shoulder.

"You may love your Abeula, and this must be very hard for you to deal with. But you don't need her approval to be who you are. And- the thing most relevant to why we're here now- you don't need her permission to explore the culture that you came from. Because you belong to it by blood, not by invitation."

The truth- the one she'd needed- made her flush. She took a shaky breath, steady herself and then looked up.

That smile was beaming straight into her face.

* * *

><p>"Hey."<p>

At the sound of Brittany's voice- soft, pensive- Santana drew her head out of her locker and looked sideways at her.

She'd changed back into her Cheerio's uniform, and she was hugging her folder to her chest so hard that Santana noticed the skin on her hands pressing white against the ridges.

"Hey." Santana trailed her eyes over the creases in Brittany's forehead, the downturned corners of her mouth. "What's wrong?"

"I'm really sorry about today."

"What for?"

Brittany pulled a face and placed her fists on either side of her head, sticking her index fingers into the air and curling them into horns.

Brittany must not have been expecting Santana's laughter because it made her start, drop her hands from her head and blink rapidly at her.

"You're not supposed to laugh when you're mad," she mumbled, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Who said I was mad? And, you don't need to be sorry."

Brittany was still looking at the floor.  
>"Yep I do," she murmured.<p>

"Nope," Santana countered, raising her voice enough to make Brittany glance up in surprise. "I'm pretty sure I've made the person accountable for your guys performance feel sorry enough. You shouldn't feel bad because you didn't know any better."

"Yeah, but I should have. I'm your girlfriend...I should have known that stuff you said."

Santana cocked her head. "Brittany, how often do I speak Spanish to you?"

Brittany's face told Santana that they both knew the answer to this.

Only ever in the dark. When they moved together, their breathing hitching over one another and Santana would curl a word, or a phrase with her tongue and press it into Brittany's mouth like a secret. And Santana knew that they both knew about the other times- when she would wake herself up with the after-taste of her voice lingering around the room. And Brittany laying wide eyed next to her, reaching for her.

They looked at one another and Santana twisted her mouth to the side.  
>"It's not your fault."<p>

She kissed Brittany then. Just a quick peck- the briefest flicker of soft skin and mingled breath. But it was enough to coax a smile on Brittany's face. Santana didn't dart her eyes around to see who had been watching. She was on a roll. She took Brittany's hand.

"Come with me."

They headed out the nearest exit that led to the very top of the wide concrete stairs heading down to the courtyard. About a quarter of the school was milling around down there. Santana turned to Brittany.

With the hand that wasn't holding Santana's, Brittany was pinching her bottom lip together and looking hesitantly around the space as though she was waiting for something to pop out. When her gaze trailed to Santana's she furrowed her eyebrows.  
>"Do you…do you want to eat lunch here?" She asked uncertainly.<p>

Santana wanted to kiss her again. But instead she just smiled and shook her head.

"Point to anything and I'll tell you what it is in Spanish."

It took a moment for Brittany's face to flicker with understanding and then Santana thought she had never seen a face so changed by a smile.

Brittany wheeled around, considering everything she could see.

"That guy's hair…over there…like Puck's…" Santana angled her head to see down to where Brittany was pointing.

"Cresta."

"Him…" Brittany pointed to another guy tipping his head back and angling a massive spoonful of pasta into her mouth. Santana laughed.

"_Chancho__." _

Brittany looked at her questioningly.

"Pig," Santana said with a smirk.

"Hmmm…" Brittany's bright eyes continued her search of the courtyard below.  
>"…those balloons."<p>

"_Globo _is balloon."

"Glow-bow…?" Brittany repeated the word - testing the syllables hesitantly.

"Globo, uhuh."

Brittany half glanced at her and then tried the word again, louder.

"Globo."

Santana grinned. "You got it. What else?"

"Hmmm, what else…" Brittany spun on her toes, glancing back over her shoulder, darting her eyes upwards, downwards and then finally bringing them to Santana's face.

Brittany's sneaker scuffed on the concrete as she took a step closer. Santana could see the tendons in her neck pull as Brittany's breath juddered. And then Brittany's face came closer to hers and Santana fluttered her eyelids closed because it's part of their rhythm- and she knew it by heart.

She felt Brittany's lips- their softness and fullness- against hers. They twitched a short rhythm into the kiss- giving Santana just a hint of heat and dampness.

Then she jerked her head back and surveying the look on Santana's face with a small smile.

"What's that called?"

"_Un beso_," Santana replied in a cracked voice. The corner of Brittany's mouth tugging as she said the word. She repeated after Santana, taking the word softly and tinging it with the sound of her own voice.

To Santana, it sounded just right.


	21. Before You Leap

**Note:**

**Hello everyone, sorry it's been so long since I posted. First week of uni coming up and all that jazz. **

**Just a quick heads up- because of the 7 week Glee hiatus I only have one more episode to write around and then I run out! So the next chapter dealing with regionals will be the last chapter for Avalanche. **

**But! Never fear because I'll be back to do Avalanche Two for the rest of the season when the show comes back. So make sure you favourite author me or follow me on Tumblr ( lumosknoxobliviate . tumblr . com ) for notice of when that's up. In the mean time though, I've been stewing up ideas for an AU Brittana story. But it'll just depend on how busy I get with uni work.**

**Any wayyy. Here's chapter 21 dealing with 'Heart'- Which has become THE Brittana episode and I really hope I did it justice. **

**Let me know what you think with a review. :)**

**Oh and please excuse any mistakes! **

**Ch 21: Before You Leap**

**Brittany:**

Brittany was curled up on her bed like one of those twisty cheese chips, with her knees bunched up to her chest and her arms folded under her head so that her elbows showed all pointy through her skin.

Instead of doing her math homework she was watching a movie.

To stop herself from feeling guilty she had left her homework zipped up in her school bag, shoved it under her bed and put headphones into her laptop so that the movie would drown out her conscience.

The film was good- one Artie had put on her laptop for her ages ago. _Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist_. It had the guy from Juno in it which was the only thing Brittany didn't like because he acted exactly the same as Paulie Bleeker even though he was supposed to be Nick and it kept on confusing Brittany so that she thought it was _Juno 2. A_nd then she'd get all upset that Paulie was cheating on Juno with Norah.

It had been an hour and a half since Santana's last text, which had said: _Homework time bbe, txt soon. _Brittany kept on picking up her phone and rereading it.

On the screen, Nick and Norah were in Jimi Hendrix's recording studio which was called Electric Lady Studios. Brittany remembered Santana talking about it once. Brittany didn't think it was fair of the movie to keep on bringing Santana into her head. Especially when she was already trying extra hard to leave her phone on the bedside table and not interrupt Santana's homeworking. But Santana loved Jimi Hendrix so it wasn't really Brittany's fault that she thought of her when his studio came on the screen. Plus- Norah saved her gum on the corner of her plate till after she ate and Santana did that too sometimes.

Brittany shook her head to clear away the Santana thoughts and tried to focus harder on the movie.

Norah was leaning against a massive desk that had more buttons than all of the coats Brittany had owned in her lifetime. She and Nick were talking about the mix-tapes he had made and then he asked her what her favourite song had been. But instead of answering that, Norah cheated and recited her favourite verse from the mix CDs instead.

When Brittany heard the verse she blinked and unfurled her arms to reach the laptop- guiding the cursor to the 'pause' button. By the time she'd done that she couldn't remember word for word what Norah had said, only that it had made Brittany go all still when she'd heard it.

Brittany was making no attempt to stop thinking about Santana now. It felt to her like that verse should have been hers to say to Santana. It was like the moment Brittany heard them she realised they'd been on the tip of her tongue.

Brittany shuffled around her laptop and off her bed, padding over to her desk where she kept her school diary. She picked up a pen too and brought them both back with her to her bed.

Seeing as it was a Sunday- and none of the teachers were around to give her homework to write down, the lines below the current date were empty.

Brittany had to rewind the movie three times before she got all the words in the right order. Then she sat back and surveyed her handiwork. It was in her neatest writing- all loopy and grown up and she was happy with it.

_"The way you're moving in your sleep,"_ Brittany mouthed the first line.

Sleep changed Santana. It relaxed her face in a way that Brittany had never seen before. Sometimes her eyes flickered underneath her eyelids and her eyebrows twitched like she was a little surprised at what had just happened in her dream. Sometimes she sighed and tossed and turned. Sometimes, Brittany's favourite times, Santana reached out and tugged herself right up against Brittany, nuzzling unconsciously into her neck.

_"The way you look before you leap."_

Brittany paused at this next line, thinking she'd never seen Santana leap off anything. Wondering what that would be like made Brittany's stomach feel quivery so she didn't think about it for too long. Instead, she thought about what had first come into her head when Norah had gotten to the leaping part: The moments before they kissed. When Santana's face was so right up close that Brittany had to go cross-eyed to see her features distinctly. And even though going cross-eyed put a weird pressure on the inside of Brittany's forehead, it was worth it to see Santana clearly. She always looked so poised for something...Like that split second before their lips met was Santana's equivalent of hanging on the cusp of a roller-coaster track.

_"The strange illusions that you keep." _

Brittany knew that Santana didn't do magic tricks. At least, not the ones that could get her hired to perform at a kid's party. Instead, Santana had her false-bottomed words and trick-deck smiles. Brittany had gotten good at teasing Santana's truths out. But it had taken a long time. She was a magician in her own right.

_"You don't know that I'm noticing."_

This line was the most important so Brittany underlined it. She was sort of glad that Santana didn't know how much she noticed about her. Like how Brittany sometimes could find shapes in the skin folds when Santana wrinkled her nose. Or the fact that Brittany knew Santana's rubbish disposal habits by heart.

If Santana was drinking from a bottle the food wrapping accompanying the drink would be curled up and squeezed into the neck of the bottle. If she'd just eaten cupcakes or muffins- their paper frills would be folded and folded and folded again until they were shaped like tiny, tiny, crumb flecked pieces of pizza. Popsicle sticks were snapped twice and twirled until their splinters went all stringy and broke apart.

Brittany said the verse to herself one more time and then her next idea came to her easily. Like time ticking over into the next moment.

The idea made Brittany realise that it had been fate for her not to do her math homework and that her conscience might well be quiet now because she wasn't being lazy anymore. Her idea was way more important than maths.

Brittany sat up and folded her legs like they taught you to do in first grade and then she pulled her lap top onto her knees and opened up a word document. At the top she typed: SANTANA and BRITTANY's INFINITE PLAYLIST.

That was as far as she got before she jumped a foot in the air and nearly lost her computer off her lap- all because her phone had somehow made it's way onto her bed and underneath her butt and juddered violently beneath it. She tilted a leg up and felt around the warm blankets for the movement. Then she pulled it out and looked at the flashing screen.

Brittany's heart decided to play jump rope when Santana's voice came husked and low through the line.

"Hey babe."

"Hey you."

Brittany was grinning stupidly to herself and Santana obviously could hear it because she asked what was so funny.

"Nothing."

"Alright, if you say so. Did you do your math?"

"No."

Brittany said the word while she was looking at the title of Santana's playlist so she didn't even feel guilty at all.

"Neither."

"What did you do then?"

Santana huffed a sigh. "General Business, read a thing for English and then did the history worksheet."

The phone speaker crackled with Santana's yawn and it made Brittany yawn too. Just out of sympathy. She was too excited about her idea to be sleeply.

While Santana talked about not wanting to go to school tomorrow Brittany bent over her diary and drew a big heart around the lines of the coming Tuesday- Feb 14th. Then, in the lines underneath tomorrows date- Monday 13th- Brittany wrote herself a list.

_ Songs._

_ Cover._

_ Blank CD._

"Britt?"

Brittany stopped writing so she could hear Santana.

"Mmm?"

Santana's voice was hesitant. "I-I asked if you wanted to come over. I could swing round and pick you up."

"In your car?" Brittany clarified, because she got confused when people said 'swing' without there being any actual swings involved.

"Yeah…?"

Brittany looked back down at her playlist...well, really, her playlist title… and hesitated. She _really _wanted to get this all done. But…

"Okay I'll be waiting outside."

"Sweet. And bring your Maths...we'll do it together."

* * *

><p>Brittany's heart leapt when Santana's car rounded the corner to her street.<p>

As it came closer, Brittany could feel Santana's eyes on her which made her giddy and nervous and, in a rush, she opened the car door before Santana had even fully stopped the car. She didn't even stop to settle into her seat before she launched herself across the centre console and kissed Santana hard on the mouth.

"Well hello to you too!" Santana said, laughing at Brittany as she pulled away.

They both had to wipe their mouths because Santana had been midway through a word so the kiss went a little sloppy. But Brittany didn't care. She kissed Santana again and then put her seat belt on.

As they started down the road Brittany automatically reached to the hollow in the centre console where Santana's iPod was usually cradled. But it wasn't there. Brittany thought that the hollow looked funny without it, like a mouth with no teeth.

"Oh yeah, iPod's busted," Santana said, glancing down to the hollow too. "I think there's some old mix CDs under your seat."

Brittany doubled over and stretched her arm into the space underneath the seat- patting around on the carpet for the disks. She found one and threaded her finger through the hole in the middle to pull it out.

It was dusty and scratched but Brittany wanted to jam so she bunched up the bottom of her shirt and tried as best she could to wipe it clean. Santana was driving with one hand and with the other she was stabbing buttons on her stereo trying to get it woken up. It finally did and the small strip of LED screen lit up with calculator letters that said "Hello".

"Dunno what's on there," Santana said as Brittany fed the disk into the slot until it was jerked from her fingers.

"Jesus, I hope it's not an artifact left over from my Usher obsession."

Brittany smiled at the thought. "We were 13 then and you didn't have a car so I think you're safe."

Santana cocked her head at Brittany. "Yeah. Yeah I guess that's true."

At just that moment, the CD began grinding in the stereo player- which didn't sound at all healthy .

Brittany was reaching out to hit the 'eject' button when suddenly the stereo managed to summon up a beat.

It wasn't Usher.

"I love this song!" Brittany exclaimed and looked delightedly at Santana.

Santana was facing the road but she had her face all scrunched up.

"What the _hell _is this?"

"Disco Duck!" Brittany exclaimed, wiggling in her seat as the duck started quacking to the beat. She watched Santana's face crinkle even more and it made Brittany stop wiggling.

"You can't say that you don't like it because it's on _your _CD," She pointed out.

Santana didn't answer and began laughing at the road. Brittany laughed too and then started singing along in her very best duck voice.

The voice seemed to make Santana laugh even harder- cupping a hand over her mouth to stifle her noises. Brittany threw her a pout- though she wasn't really annoyed.

"Hey, at least I'm trying! The duck voice is really hard!"

"No it isn't. It's easy," Santana said- turning her voice all raspy and lispy in a perfect imitation of the duck singing through the speakers.

Brittany's mouth dropped open in shock but Santana just turned back to the road like nothing had happened. Brittany reached out and hit the stop button so that the music skidded to a halt and all the usual car sounds started up again.

"You just did the duck voice!" She exclaimed, feeling like Santana was suddenly whole other person. Or like she'd just given Brittany one extra way to love her.

"You can do the duck voice," she repeated. Santana rolled her eyes away from the road, long enough to give Brittany an exasperated look.

"So? Turn the music back on."

Brittany's eyes stayed wide. "Do the duck voice again."

Santana pursed her lips and shook her head as she flicked her indicator on and switched them into the turning right lane of the intersection. The lights were red so she halted the car- making Brittany jerk a little in her seat. She leant forwards to get Santana to look at her.

"Please?"

Santana fanned one hand out from her temple- blocking the side of her face from view. Brittany noticed she was still shaking with laughter.

Laughing too, but a little sad that Santana was refusing to share her gift, Brittany pressed play on the stereo and the real duck voice filled the car. She began wiggling in her seat again, humming along and tapping her hands on the dashboard.

The interior of the car tinged green as the light right above them changed color. Santana surged the car forwards, curving it smoothly around onto the next road.

It was when the ticking of the indicator shut off the Brittany realised there were two duck voices singing the current verse. She looked over and saw that Santana had dropped her hand from her face and had it on the steering wheel with her other one. She was tapping them both against it and singing along.

Brittany tried to sing too so that Santana wouldn't notice her watching her do her duck voice- but all the words seemed to have left Brittany's head and she couldn't remember them. All she could think about was how pretty Santana looked- even when she thought no one was noticing. Even when she was doing her duck voice.

Brittany twisted sideways in her seat so that her back and her head were resting against the car door. She was lazy with her eyes- letting them linger across Santana like she was watching a movie. Santana shot her a sideways look as the duck verse finished and grinned at her.

It was like Brittany melted. She grinned back and wished she'd brought her school diary in the car with her so that she could write the name of the first song in their infinite playlist.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Santana<span>:**

Santana was tired of pretending. She was tried of denying and pushing her feelings away- slamming the door shut on them and jamming scowls and eye rolls and huge huffing sighs up against it.

She had to be honest with herself. Admitting was the first step, wasn't it?

She took a deep breath.

"I'm lingering" she admitted mentally. "I'm lingering at the Lima Bean Valentine's Day stand."

"Looking for something in particular?" A voice that wasn't her own came over her shoulder.

She whirled around to see Kurt standing in front of her, holding an identical coffee-to-go cup. He was smirking knowingly at her.

Santana edged sideways away from the stand.

"I was waiting for my coffee," she clarified in a cold voice.

"Of course, of course," Kurt assured her sarcastically. Santana narrowed her eyes at him.

"God, you know the whole annoying know-it-all thing really suits you Kurt. All you need now is a moustache and Adrian Brody's nose and you'll be like Rachel Berry 2.0."

Kurt took a sip of his coffee, swung to look briefly over at the Valentine's Day stand and then said: "The candles would be a nice touch if you were planning some kind of stay at home intimate dinner. So would the…" He glanced back, standing up on his toes to see what else was on the stand. "The bags of rose petals would work with that idea as well. But personally I think Britt would like the kissing Panda bears."

"Pandas are like the least sexy animals ever," Puck appeared around the other side of Kurt- holding a coke and a brown paper bag. "Do you know the ones in captivity have to be shown panda porn so that they can learn how to get it on?"

Santana stared at him in repulsion.

"H-how do you even know that, Puckerman?" Kurt asked in a clipped voice.

Puck gave a cheery shrug and then contemplated the Valentine's Day rack in the same way that Kurt had done.

"You're looking in the wrong place for a Valentine's Day present Santana." he said, levelling a smirk at her. "The place you want is across town. House of Fun. I'm pretty sure the last time I was there they had a two for one deal on lube and I know I've seen a whole wall covered in strap-ons and…"

"Wow." Santana muttered, frowning at Puck. "You get classier every day."

Puck held up his hands. "I'm sure you and Britt have no problem getting down and dirty but I just thought…"

"Okay! Enough, enough!" Kurt said, using both hands and all his body weight to shunt Puck away towards the front door.

"God that was disturbing," he said when Puck had gone, rubbing his palms over his ears. "But anyway, as I was saying. You don't have to be shy about admitting that you're thinking about what to get her. Now that you're in a committed relationship it's really only customary. Hmmm," Kurt tapped a finger on his chin and shot his eyes to the ceiling.

"You could do what Blaine is doing for me and leave Britt anonymous love notes in her locker and stuff. I can really see her loving that."

Santana frowned. "That's like the most stupid idea ever if you obviously know who it is."

"Well," Kurt considered and then laughed lightly. "I may have caught on pretty quick but Britt...well...she could need a nudge in the right direction."

Santana's frown deepened. "What are you trying to say?"

"Oh, no. No, nothing. I guess Blaine's just doing it to keep up the excitement seeing as he can't actually be with me."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're using Valentine's Day suggestions as a way to talk about your own relationship?"

Kurt looked offended.

"I'd do no such thing! I'm honestly genuinely concerned that your...erm..._intolerance_ for any sort of overly intense display of emotion will mean that you'll flag Valentine's Day altogether. Which, you know… I guess you could get away with if you were dating someone else. But you're not. You're dating Brittany. Which means…" He pointed to the Valentine's stand, "...kissing pandas."

Santana didn't say anything, realising with rapid clarity that Kurt thought she had the same tact and capacity for romance as a truck driver. Or Finn. Santana couldn't tell whether it was a blessing or a curse that he thought that way. The truth, she knew, would probably make him squee and need a diaper change. She was wearing her Cheerios track pants underneath her skirt- so it wasn't like he'd be able to see that heart socks that she was wearing to match Brittany's. And it wasn't like he'd check her browser history and discover the slew of "_cute and quirky Valentine's Day dates_" search results she'd clicked on.

"Santana?" Kurt was waggling a red rose under her nose. "_At least _buy this for the poor girl."

She was at him before she really had time to think.

"Ugh. Look. All I wanted to do was get a coffee to make my brain work. But honestly, if I'm around you a moment longer every ounce of will to live that I possess will be sucked into the black hole that is your enthusiasm. And, FYI, just because I like girls doesn't mean I'm like some clueless straight guy who needs a gay fairy godmother to convince him to put in effort into his girlfriend that goes past humping her."

Kurt blinked at her and then dropped his gaze sheepishly down to the top of his coffee cup.

"I didn't mean it that way. You know I…"

"Whatever. I know you didn't but still."

"I should stop butting in on other peoples plans. I just… I guess it just sucks the Blaine isn't here and I had all these ideas to make the day awesome. So I'm trying to pass them on."

Santana paused, and sighed at her own guilt.

"Well, I guess this _is _a good start," she said, snatching the rose off him.

Before the smile of delight could fully infect his features, Santana held up a hand, blocking it from view.

"Not a word," she growled warningly.

Santana watched Kurt leave and then paid for the rose and followed after him out the door.

She walked down the street to her car, stewing a mouthful of coffee. Apart from the rose she still had no idea how to make Valentine's Day special for Brittany. Kurt had been right about one thing… Santana didn't have just your average valentine.

By the time she pulled past the school gates, the traffic had made her late for homeroom. There were only a few students still making their way into school and even fewer car parks. Santana idled in the crowded space, debating whether or not to try to squeeze in between a power pole and some jerk who had parked wonkily in the next space.

Figuring she'd rather be late than have a dent in her car, Santana decided she'd circle around the school to the car park by the back entrance.

Most of the parks were taken there as well but Santana managed to squeeze into one on the very edge- between a concrete wall and a massive, fuck-off red pickup.

She cut off her ignition and cast her gaze across to the passenger seat where she'd laid the rose over her school bag. It wasn't even Valentine's Day yet. Would giving it to Brittany confuse her? Santana huffed a sigh. It'd be gross and wilty tomorrow if she waited. She really had no choice. Leaning over, she reached out to collect it and her bag. But paused when her eyes fell through the passenger window onto the pick-up.

Being bent low across the seat like she was, Santana could see up into it's cab.

Dave Karofsky was sitting inside, writing on something he had pressed open on the steering wheel.

After a moment of looking in surprise, Santana finished gathering her stuff and twisted up out of the car.

She slammed the door closed harder than usual so that the sound carried and Karofsky jerked his head up, turning to find the source of the noise.

It was hard to gauge what exact emotions passed across his face in the few beats that they looked at one another. Santana recognised shock. Maybe a hint of panic.

She wound her way around the bonnet of her car and approached his window, watching as he folded up what Santana now realised was a card. One with cartoon hearts on the front.

She leant back against the side of her car and watched him crank the handle on his door, lowering the glass separating them.

"Santana," he said formally, nodding at her.

"I didn't know you were coming back here," she said, folding her arms and tilting her head to take him in.

"I'm not. I'm just here to sort some left over football stuff with Coach Beiste."

Santana rose her eyebrows . "By way of a valentines day card and...what is that? A rose?" She'd risen up onto her toes to see into the cab of the truck and on the passenger seat lay a red rose and the card she'd seen him writing in.

Karofsky turned and looked down at them like he'd never seen them before.

"Oh no...that's… they're for someone else. I was just killing time before I had to go see her."

"Are they for a guy?"

Anger ghosted across Karofsky's face and he snapped his head up to her. It was almost as if he had forgotten who she was because once their eyes connected the anger dropped like a stone and his cheeks flushed.

"Yeah."

Santana took this in without comment. Karofsky was looking at her own rose now.

"Looks like you've got the same idea as me," he said, pointing to it. It was Santana's turn to glance down.

"Guess I do."

"Is it for a girl?"

"For my _girlfriend_," she said, feeling a little thrill at the word leaving her mouth.

Karofsky notched his chin and wrinkled it by pushing his lips against one another. What was that on his face, Santana wondered. Admiration? Jealousy?

"Who is she?" He asked. His tone was even but the look was still there.

Santana tilted her head at him, winding her eyes over his face.

"Brittany," she answered, the thrill doubling at saying her name.

Karofsky faltered and then jerked his eyebrows up in surprise. "As in… Cheerios Brittany?"

"Uh-huh." Santana nodded, trying not to grin.

Karofsky turned his face back to his steering wheel for a beat and then looked back up at her.

"So...does that mean you're out?"

"Yep," Santana said. She felt edgy for some reason- like she was being challenged.

"And everyone…" Karofsky lifted his hands and draped them over the steering wheel, digging at the nail on his left thumb. "...Everyone's all good about it?"

"Let's just say that the people in my head gave a bigger crap than anyone here actually does." She shrugged and could only put the rest lightly: "It's been okay. With her...Britt...she's… It's better than it ever was when I wasn't out."

Karofsky nodded at his lap, wrinkling his chin as he pursed his lips upwards for a second time.

"Cool." He said, after a moment.

A few beats of silence followed and Santana looked at him.

He was sitting in his truck and she was leaning against her car and they both had roses for the people they loved. But Santana felt like there was this huge, yawning void between them.

Whereas Santana knew that she could go into the school and hand Brittany the rose and witness the miracle of the tips of her nose and ears going pink and that sun beam smile that Santana loved so much, she was beginning to wonder if Karofsky could do the same.

The edge in his voice told her no. The emotions on his face told her no.

And that card- the terrible, cheesy, cartoon heart card- told her no. She could almost sense the bone china fragile hope that was tucked into it.

It made her feel sort of sick, though she didn't understand why.

"Well," Karofsky cleared his throat. "I better go catch coach up."

Santana shifted upright off the car and nodded.

"Yeah, I've got home room so I guess I'll see you round. Oh, and good luck." She gestured to his passenger seat again.

Karofsky just dropped his head and nodded.

Santana walked away across the car park. It seemed odd that the sounds of Karofsky getting out of his car never came but she didn't look back around. She wanted to get away as fast as she could- feeling a vague, sourceless unease building inside her like a storm.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Brittany<span>:**

They sat in silence after Santana left. Maybe it was because she'd taken all the best words with her. Or maybe it was because she'd said them already.

Brittany raised her eyes above Principal Figgins head and focused on the duck ornament that sat up on the third shelf of his book case.

She liked ducks. And she liked how often she got to see them. It make her glad that her favourite animal wasn't like a Tiger or the Chinese White Dolphin because then you'd only see them in Zoos or on TV. At least with Ducks you only had to go to the lake.

Seeing the duck should have made her feel better but it didn't. That was because out of the corner of her eye Brittany was able to see the file sitting between her and Principal Figgins on the coffee folder. The one that had all the complaints about her and Santana. Brittany dropped her eyes to her sneakers and wondered how many times she'd been in this office while that folder had been sitting in his cabinet. She came in here once a week for Senior Class President stuff and he'd never said anything about it before.

Principal Figgins was leaning this way and that in his chair- peering through the glass wall of his office into the hallway. Brittany looked too but she couldn't see Santana.

"Well Brittany, I think you may leave as well. But please understand that I meant no offense to either of you."

Brittany stood up off the couch and noticed that one of her knee caps was wobbly and numb. Principal Figgins was looking up at her, she could tell, but she didn't look at him. She left the office and went to find Santana.

Finding Santana turned out to take 5 seconds. Brittany rounded the first corridor away from the office and there she was- leaning against the Arts and Culture notice board- the same one that Artie had posted the cast list for West Side Story.

Santana was taking slow, deep breaths that made her cheeks balloon out. Her eyes were closed.

"San…" Brittany stepped up so that the toes of the their sneakers were almost touching. After Brittany said the first part of Santana's name she saw Santana's breathing stall halfway out her mouth and she fluttered her eyelids open.

They looked at one another. Just looked. Brittany was glad because she was too busy taking in all the things Santana's face was saying to concentrate on speaking or hearing words.

"I'm so angry." Santana muttered after awhile. And Brittany knew she was telling the truth because the darkness in her eyes was hard and endless. She screwed her mouth upwards, mashing her lips together so that it looked half like she was trying not to cry and half like she was about to snarl.

She shook her head even though Brittany hadn't said anything.

"I just can't believe that just yesterday I'd been saying about how good things were and how no one cared what we did and then...wham. This happens. And on fucking Valentine's Day _of all days._"

There was a heaviness in Brittany's throat. Like she hadn't swallowed a bite of her sandwich properly. And she could feel her eyes stinging.

As much as she was angry, she was sad too and she wished she hadn't been so that she could have yelled at Principle Figgins like Santana had. But words got all choked up and she couldn't get them out.

"Can I have a hug?" She asked.

The hardness in Santana's eyes melted like ice cubes under the hot water tap and Brittany was relieved. Santana opened her arms and Brittany stepped into them, sneaking her arms around Santana's lower back and tugging her away from the notice board.

They held on to one another- rocking a little like they were slow dancing. Brittany could feel Santana's breathing moving her back up and down and also scattering moist and hot just below Brittany's ear. She ducked her head into Santana's hair and took a deep breath of her own.

Santana was the one to break the hug.

Brittany hoped that it was just a coincidence that the sound of voices and footsteps reached them a second before they pulled apart. Brittany crossed all her fingers behind her back and wished Santana's confidence back to her. Brittany didn't want to go back to pinky fingers and napkins and scared stiff kisses in the dark.

The voices grew louder and Brittany and Santana both looked to the corner of the corridor in time to see Rory and Sugar appear around it. They were both bent low over the screen of Sugar's phone.

"And this is the mini four poster bed that Daddy installed for her at the end of mine. They match, see?" She flicked her finger across the screen. "Oh and here she is chewing on it...And…" Sugar flicked her eyes briefly up to monitor their progress down the hall but she saw Brittany and Santana instead. Her face lit up and she took a couple of skippy steps away from Rory and up to them.

"You two look depressed," she said, peering at them and wrinkling her nose. Then, she held up the screen of her phone- switching it back and forth between their faces. "This is the dog Rory got me for Valentine's Day. Her name is Diamonds."

Brittany tried to focus on the picture on the screen but before she could make out anything more than shaggy grey fur, Sugar dropped her arm and fixed both of them with a beady stare.

"Seriously. Why are you guys so emo A-T-M? It's like...illegal to be depressed on Valentine's Day if you're not single. It means you're winning at life while everyone else is going to die alone. Plus like… there's my party on Friday so I don't get why anyone would be sad when I've already said they're invited."

"In other words," Rory piped up from slightly behind Sugar, "what's wrong?"

Beside her, Brittany caught sight of Santana tossing her head irritably.

"Some stupid Jesus freak has been complaining about the fact that Brittany and I kiss in public," she told them.

When Rory switched his eyes from Santana to Brittany in disbelief and Brittany gave a confirming nod. He scrunched his face up.

"I don' get it," he said, shaking his head. "Who'd complain?"

Santana scowled but Brittany laughed. "You sound like Principal Figgins," she said.

"Gross," Santana added.

"I think I know who it was," Sugar said suddenly in an overtly loud stage whisper.

"Who?" Santana's voice cut the air past Brittany like a dart. Brittany flinched and everything in her tummy tightened.

Oblivious to the sudden tension of the two girls in front of her, Sugar rolled her eyes to the ceiling, tapping a long, pink finger nail on her chin.

"I can't remember his name but there's this new kid who came here from one of those religious colonies. Like the one where everyone drank the Kool Aid and died. And I know Quinn told me that he joined her God group and loves Jesus and wears his sandals so it was probs him."

Brittany could feel the press of Santana's gaze on her, but when she turned her head to meet it she noticed that it was actually angled just beyond her- staring at nothing but empty corridor. It made all the knots in Brittany's stomach twist harder. She'd never heard of this Jesus cult guy. But she was worried now. She wanted to take Santana's hand and squeeze it really tight. She wanted to rewind back to when she was showing Santana her playlist cover and she wanted to freeze the frame right on Santana's face. Just before they kissed.

"Okay," Sugar huffed when no one said anything. "You guys are _really _depressing me so I'm going to walk away now." She turned so fast on her heel that it squeaked and clopped off. Brittany heard the sound of Rory moving too and she looked up at him. There was pity all over his face as he cast her a weak smile.

"Jus ignore whoever it is alright?"

Brittany nodded hard and smiled back but she didn't feel good. She risked a peek at Santana and saw that her face was set all hard and angular.

"We've got History," Brittany reminded her in a small voice. When Santana didn't respond Brittany reached out and tugged her hand. But Santana knew how to make her body dead weighted and she didn't budge at Brittany's effort.

"I don't want to go," she dead panned, still staring out into the corridor.

Brittany suddenly had a flash of panic. She didn't know what to do so she loitered awkwardly in front of Santana, dropping her hand so that she could scrunch up the sides of her Cheerio's pants in her sweaty palms.

"But we're late," was all she could think of to say.

Santana shrugged. "I don't care."

Brittany mashed her lips together to stop a small sob escape them. Her eyes stayed dry but she was panicking.

What if Principal Figgins had broken Santana so that she never wanted to look at Brittany again? What if that stupid Jesus guy had made Santana revert back to how she used to be-drawing a maze of invisible lines around her that Brittany wasn't allowed to cross.

Brittany looked at Santana and could almost physically feel the tension radiating off her. She felt another sob coming but she gulped it back and then used her words.

"You're scaring me," she admitted.

It took a beat but then Santana dragged her eyes away from the corridor and looked at Brittany. Her eyes were hazy like she was going to cry.

Brittany didn't care about Figgins or the Jesus kid or anyone else who couldn't stomach the sight of her and Santana. All she wanted was to feel Santana kiss her back.

They came together gratefully- like addicts- sighing relief into one another's mouths. Brittany closed her eyes.

After a moment they broke away, but Santana's hands had come around Brittany's shoulders and they didn't let her pull back too much- only so that they could rest their foreheads against one another.

"I don't ever want to have to stop doing that. Not for anyone." Santana said.

"Neither," Brittany replied, her heart contracting in joy.

She watched as Santana's really up close eyes switched back and forth to look up and down the hall way.

Then her breath ghosted against Brittany's mouth.

"Let's get out of here."

Brittany blinked in confusion as Santana disentangled them and grasped her hand, tugging her the way that Sugar and Rory had gone.

"Wait.. Where are we going?"

"My locker so we can get your computer."

"My computer…" Brittany repeated the words numbly as she hurried her footsteps to match Santana's.

"Yep, it's got that awesome playlist on it which I want to listen to while we drive."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Santana<span>:**

Santana didn't know what was better- The sweet sight of Jesus boys face when he realised what Santana had asked of him, or the looks of the surrounding church choir members when they realised the same.

Santana actually caught sight of one of them cross himself.

She stayed very, very still. Like a rabbit testing the air for danger. Except she was testing the faces around her for betrayal.

Sam was standing behind dreadlock Jesus- his immense mouth puckered together and his eyes diverted to the ground awkwardly. Christian my ass, Santana thought with a snort, remembering how willing he'd been to use the lords name in vein when she'd been sitting, grinding on his lap. This time last year, almost, she thought.

And then there was Quinn. She'd always dangled her religion above people. It was just another thing to steepen her moral high-ground. Santana had always attributed Quinn's silence about she and Brittany to tolerance. But now, with those green eyes fluttering up to dreadlock Jesus's face- seeming to rest the decision completely on his shoulders- Santana realised that maybe the silence had been less about tolerance and more about Quinn being too scared to say how she really felt.

To counteract the sickening drop of her stomach, Santana notched her chin upwards and looked lastly at Mercedes.

It seemed like a sick joke when Santana realised her face looked exactly like the others. Her eyes were pinned resolutely away from Santana. Her was body stiff. And her mouth was a thin, hard line.

Santana struggled to arrange her words into another challenge. Trying to hit upon _just _how unjust it all was.

But Mercedes spoke before any of the right words showed up.

"I think we need to get back to you Santana."

Like Quinn, she was looking at Joe. Santana snapped her eyes back up to him- rage rising like a vicious tide.

"It _was _you," she spat.

He rose his eyebrows.

"What...what was?"

"It was you that complained about me and Brittany to Principal Figgins, wasn't it?" She stepped right up to him, trying to be as intimidating as she could be when he was standing above her on a table.

To her satisfaction, he looked genuinely afraid- hugging his guitar harder to his front and looking down at her, wide-eyed.

"N-no, I haven't complained about anyone. It's only my third day here. I've only seen Principal Figgins twice. Once when I enrolled and the other when he called me in to have my dreads sterilized because some Coach lady said they could contain bird flu."

Santana didn't let his point sink in. She was too angry to be rational. And rationality seemed cheap. It seemed like a cop out to all the injustice she'd seen. All the uphill battles she'd just recognised.

And instead of blinding her, the anger made her see clearly. The truth itched across her skin like a rash- and sunk into her bones. She was seeing everything that she'd missed before. She and Brittany were never breezed by in the corridor when they kissed. Not like Mike and Tina. Or Finn and Rachel.

With she and Brittany there was always that pause. That brief flicker of eyes in their direction. Maybe a wince. A giggle. A nudge.

Tolerance at best. Never acceptance.

She had been blind before. She'd kissed with her eyes closed.

But now three of her best friends were shoving all of it in her face.

And then, just to top the moment off, Rachel Berry opened her mouth.

"I think that maybe this request does deserve extra thought. And Santana, while I am completely _for_ the representation and embracing of all types of couples, I do think that it is a bit reactional to request a song from a known Christian group."

Santana snapped her head around.

"A Christian group where three out of four members are supposed to be my friends," she spat.

Rachel half opened her mouth but Santana was so angry she was shaking.

"No, you know what?" She trailed her eyes menacingly across Quinn, Sam and Mercedes, almost blanching from the anger surging through her. "Whatever. Go pray about it. Go look at your bible. Do whatever helps you sleep at night. I'm done with this bull crap."

"Santana…" Rachel whirled with her, snatching at her hand. Santana wrenched it away and kept walking.

She didn't stop until she found herself standing in front of Britt's locker. Aimlessly, she swing the dial around- clicking the sequence of numbers into place. It was the same as her own.

She unhooked the latch and swung the light metal door back.

The rose she'd given Brittany yesterday was there- it's stem wedged up between the back of the locker and the beginning of the top shelf so that it would hang upside down and preserve.

Santana leant her head almost completely inside the small space and inhaled deeply. She could still smell the rose. And the metallic smell of ink from when one of Brittany's sparkly jelly pens leaked through the bottom. It was covered by books now but Santana knew the purple stain would still be there.

Santana rifled through the books and crumpled paper and hairclips- looking for any sort of fabric that would hold Brittany's scent. Maybe her winter hat, or a scarf. If Brittany hadn't somehow gotten herself roped into helping Sugar plan the Valentine's Day party Santana could have just buried her face in Brittany's neck. But fabric was the next best thing.

After turning through the contents of Brittany's locker Santana had only found one useful thing- the tube of raspberry lip smacker that Brittany had thought she'd lost.

Santana pocketed it and then rumpled the contents of the locker once again so that it would all fit inside without hitting against the door.

As she did, a piece of paper flitted out and tumbled through the air to sweep lightly onto the linoleum between Santana's feet . When Santana picked it up she was about to crumple it into her fist- thinking it was just scrap paper. But then she noticed that one side of it was covered almost entirely with little red penned in hearts. It looked like the inside page of a diary- and though it had been ripped half through the date, she could make out the last half of the word 'February' in the top left hand corner. She turned it over.

In the lines on the other side was a cluster of Brittany's hand writing.

"The way you're moving in your sleep. The way you look before you leap. The strange illusions that you keep. You don't know that I'm noticing." 

* * *

><p><strong><span>Brittany<span>:**

Brittany had never seen Breadstix look this awesome.

There were hearts and balloons everywhere- so many that you couldn't take three steps without sending a couple skittering off your shins.

Even though the bash was winding down and the staff were hovering impatiently around the edges of the room, Sugar insisted on keeping the party alive. She had a permanent hold of her sparkling white microphone and kept trying to hustle the crowd. It worked for the most part- because she kept promising more gift vouchers to people.

When Sugar had commanded a switch from live performances to a playlist on her iPod, all the glee clubbers had migrated around a single table. That's where Brittany was sitting now- sandwiched between Quinn and Artie.

Mike, Tina, Santana and Sam were still going crazy on the dance floor with Sugar egging them on through her microphone. Brittany had to crane her neck from where she was sitting to see them- but every now and then she heard Santana or Tina squeal followed by the rumble of Sam and Mike's laughter. Brittany had supersonic hearing when it came to her friends- she could pick their voices over the hum of the crowd and the beat.

Brittany felt something nudge her foot and she looked down to see a wandering heart balloon. She bent down and squeezed it up between the small space of the table and her lap. Then she eyed Mercedes who was across the table gazing into space. Biting back a giggle, Brittany notched it into the air and then punched against it. It flew off to the side of Mercedes and hit Rachel instead- upsetting the drink she had tilted to lips. The coke went down onto her dress a little bit but not enough to justify the squeal she made.

She put down her glass and spun fiercely around, searching for the culprit. Hastily, Brittany turned to Artie beside her and did the first thing she thought of- she handed him her cheese heart.

He blinked up at her.

"Do you want it?" She asked by way of explanation.

"Oh, oh no it's okay. I've already eaten Mike and Tina's ones since they've been up dancing."

Brittany placed hers down in front of him. "Well you've been sad so just take mine too. And…" She leant over to where Santana had left her clutch and her own cheese heart.

"Here." Brittany ripped off the vouchers and handed it to him.

"Santana hates these too." She stacked them neatly on top of one another and pressed them towards Artie.

He gave her a grim sort of smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Brittany risked a peek at Rachel who was now furiously wiping the front of her dress with her napkin. Then Brittany was caught by a soft elbow in the ribs and she turned just in time to catch Quinn's sideways smile.

"Lucky I didn't rat you out."

Brittany smiled. "Super lucky," she agreed.

Quinn turned and leant back in her chair a little so that Brittany could see past her to the dancing crowd.

"Santana looks so happy," she said, gesturing. Brittany followed her eyes to Santana. Quinn was right- Santana had her arms up, twirling herself and Tina around and laughing so hard it looked like the joy would split it apart.

It was so contagious that Brittany caught it all the way from where she was sitting.

Quinn looked around at her and they grinned at one another.

"Did you like your singing telegram?"

"It was the best!" Brittany said, nodding. "I'm glad you decided to do it."

"Oh, we always knew that we wanted to. It was just a matter of getting everyone comfortable with the idea."

Brittany nodded, knowing that by everyone she actually meant Jesus boy.

She shifted her eyes past Quinn again to look for Santana but she was no longer visible in the crowd and then with freaky bible timing that made Brittany even more weary of him, Jesus boy lent forward from Quinn's other side and grinned at her.

"Hey Brittany," he said, holding out a hand. "Here's where I can properly meet you."

Brittany travelled her eyes up his arm and to his face wearily. He didn't look like he was from a cult. Well, maybe he did, but only the ones that did drugs and surfed.

"Hi Jesus boy," she said, taking his hand and shaking it.

This made Quinn laugh.

"His name is Joe."

"Like Jesus's dad?"

Quinn's laughter faltered and then picked up again with renewed voice. Joe laughed too- his adam's apple bobbing up and down his neck.

"That's one I haven't heard befor- oh…"

Joe's voice faltered when a large shape wedged itself between Brittany and Quinn.

Brittany blinked, trying to clear the dark sweep of hair that had suddenly obscured her vision. She knew who it was by the tone of the giggle that vibrated into her side.

Santana curved her arms around Brittany's neck- her bracelet digging into the top notch of Brittany's spine. Brittany felt her shift her weight and then the dark hair fell away from Brittany's face as Santana's head tilted. She could see again but only for a moment because Santana pressed a hot, open kiss to the side of her neck which made Brittany's vision blanche.

She had squeezed in between Brittany and Quinn's chair and had fitted herself onto Brittany's lap- leaning sideways into Brittany- with her back to Artie and facing Quinn.

Brittany curled her arms around Santana's waist to keep her steady and the grinned up at her as she pulled away, whisking her hair around one shoulder.

"Glad you came back," Brittany said. And she meant it. The warmth of Santana, the reassuring weight- it all made Brittany feel tingly with satisfaction. She looked up to see Santana's face curved over hers- so close that Brittany could kiss her if she tilted her face a few centimetres. Santana's eyes were warm and her hand was stroking the back of Brittany's neck.

"You want to get out of here?" She breathed.

Every single hair stood up alone Brittany's arms. She felt like she had bugs crawling on her. But not the slimy kind. Like the tickley kind- like fire fairies.

"Yeah," she nodded, not taking her eyes off Santana's. Santana squeezed her briefly and then let her go, shimmying up off of her and leaning over the table to grab her clutch. Brittany scooted her chair back and stood too, readjusting her dress which had edged up her thighs.

* * *

><p>As soon as the door of Breadstix swung shut behind them it was like the party belonged to another world- one that was muffled and hazy. The cool air sunk into Brittany's lungs and the rest of the world lay open and twinkling around them.<p>

Santana had her by the hand, walking so close to Brittany's side that her hair brushed against Brittany's arm.

"You cold?" Santana asked, taking a juddery breath to indicate that she was.

Brittany shook her head but turned sideways and wrapped both her arms tight around Santana. It was like she was a clingy bear- latched to Santana's side. It was a little awkward getting to the car but they managed it without tripping over each other's feet- which Brittany thought was quite an accomplishment seeing as she sometimes had trouble keeping her own feet apart and also because Santana was laughing so hard she kept stumbling sideways into Brittany.

They dropped inside the car at exactly the same time, still breathless from laughing and stumbling. Santana switched on the heat, and hunched over her steering wheel- pressing the length of her forearms up against it and then curving her hands around it at the top. She used them like a pillow and looked over at Brittany.

Brittany felt giddy from how amazing the night had been and as she sat in the seat her body was practically humming from happiness. As if Santana felt it too, she smiled wide and slow.

"You're beautiful," she said. Brittany blushed instantly- and the heat in the car made it worse. She tried to match up exactly where Santana's eyes had fixed on her face to make her say that but they kept sort of darting all around it.

"You are as wel-" Santana stopped her next words with a kiss. Just a small one, but it was magic. Then she started the ignition and turned to Brittany.

"Where to ma'am?" She asked in her best Jack Dawson voice. And that sideways smile and that gleam in her eyes made Brittany melt a little bit.

She followed along smoothly, because they'd done this before.

"To the stars."

Santana didn't quite get them to the stars. But they didn't go home. To Brittany, the streets that flew past them were all familiar- but they appeared in a sequence she'd never experienced before so she couldn't work out where they were headed.

She asked Santana who just placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed.

Brittany closed her mouth and adjusted the heat lower.

The speakers of the car played some low, sweltering beat that had no words. And Santana's hand had begun rubbing at Brittany's thigh which didn't help. Soon, Brittany was all strung up- the patch between her legs heaving almost in time to the bass.

They drove for what seemed like a long time and Brittany couldn't fight the mounting feeling that Santana was taking her on a trip.

"Where are we…"

Santana's hand squeezed again and slipped higher upwards. Brittany's voice died.

She pulled the car into the yawning archway of a building- one with a semicircle drive and manicured hedges and brass bag trolleys stacked, glinting by the door. Brittany saw soft lighting coming through the high, old fashioned, arching windows.

Brittany blinked out at it all in wonder and then turned back to Santana who was leaning in her seat, smiling at Brittany.

"A hotel." She said simply.

She just blinked at Santana in awe.

"You booked us in?"

"Uh-huh. Just for the night." She held a set of keys up in front of Brittany's face.

"Shall we?"

Brittany nodded so hard that her neck hurt. She was making to get out of the door when Santana suddenly jerked her arm away from the handle.

"No…that's… hold on."

She undid her seat belt and walked around the bonnet of the car, opening Brittany's door and holding out a hand to her.

Once Brittany was out of the car she noticed an older guy in fancy dress suit who took the car keys that Santana handed him and actually tipped his hat at them before walking to the drivers seat of Santana's car.

Brittany stared around her, wide-eyed.

"This is so flash," she breathed. And all she could think of was how the foyer reminded her of a ballroom in a castle with its tall pillars and its chandelier- hanging like a clutch of stars over their heads. Brittany had always wanted to touch one- just to hear the droplets of glass or diamonds or whatever they were tinkling. But they were always hung too high for her to reach. This one was no exception.

Santana had her by the hand and was leading her through the lobby. The front desks were vacant- lit only by one of those funny shaped lamps that you always saw on businessmen's old school wooden desks. It made Brittany think of cigars and whisky.

Santana still wasn't answering any questions or saying anything much. So Brittany kept her mouth closed and concentrated on the building rise of anticipation in her lower stomach.

The elevator dropped them smoothly and efficiently onto the seventh floor- into a wide, white hallway- dimly lit like the lobby had been.

Santana knew the way to their room by heart and she slid the card into the slot of their door the right way up which impressed Brittany because it almost always took her more than one go.

Santana held the door open and Brittany stepped into the room, her breath folding in on itself at the wide, immaculately made bed and the modern brown couch and the shimmery curtains that had a gap in them so that the lights from the nearby buildings snuck in. The room was dim and slightly golden. And it smelt clean. Like fresh sheets. Like the start of a morning. Like a first kiss, if that made any sense.

The sound of the door snapping shut brought her around to face Santana, whose face was shy and sort of hesitant.

"I can't believe you went to all this trouble…with the song and the rose and the…all of this…" Brittany gestured helplessly around at the room. Santana cocked her head.

"Well, the rose was an impulse thing. And the song… I wasn't even sure that was going to go ahead so it was kind of a surprise for me as well. And the hotel room…" She tossed the keys onto a nearby side table and kicked off her high heels.

"…is perfect." Brittany finished, stepping up to Santana.

Being taller, Brittany was the one who put her hands around Santana's back, while Santana's arms came around her waist.

"I'm going to kiss you," Santana murmured, raising her eyes to Brittany's lips and then straining upwards to meet them with her own.

It was a kiss that got under Brittany's skin. It was the Santana she knew best- the one that took a hold of Brittany's mouth and used her tongue to trace fire.

It was far away from the shy girl at Breadstix who'd tilted her face upwards and hung her smile in the air waiting for Brittany to catch it.

They pulled away at the same time, both a little breathless. Santana looked around the room but Brittany didn't move her eyes from Santana.

At hotel rooms Brittany had a ritual where she went exploring. Every cupboard and knook and cranny. She pushed her face into the plush, fluffy towels and played with the tap dials and flicked the lights on and off and read the room service menu and plucked through the TV channels. Taking in every angle of the view from the windows. Hotel rooms fascinated her because they were like a bedroom, but they weren't part of a home. They hung in this exciting limbo between comfort and adventure.

That was her ritual. That was how they make her feel. But now Brittany felt like she was caught in another limbo- one that involved Santana. Comfort. Adventure.

They came together and then met the bed by falling on their sides. Brittany whispered onto Santana's mouth that she should be careful of her dress but Santana sat up and undid the zip, pulling it roughly from her body. Brittany took her own dress off too and her heels, but she left in the head scalp and all her hair pins because they were too annoying to take out and Santana's eyes were dark and impatient.

She was stretched out on the bed before Brittany in a purple two piece lingerie set. Though Brittany had seen her body so many times before- the new surroundings made it different.

The look on Santana's face was open and expectant and so contradictory because her chin was all notched up in a challenge but her eyes were so pleading it made Brittany almost worried. She couldn't get up the bed fast enough to kiss it off her face.

They kissed for a bit- Brittany straddling Santana and bent over her with her hands anchoring around her cheeks and Santana's hands just resting on Brittany's thighs. When they had to breathe again Brittany backed up off Santana slightly, so that her bum pressed into Santana's knee caps.

She ran her eyes over Santana's body.

The skin over her ribs was pulled taunt by the position she's was lying in- and her ribs showed through like the membrane of a birds wing. Her stomach was taunt too- right down to the lines of her hips that came as together at the patch of skin above her underwear.

Brittany looked at Santana like was her first time seeing her this way. She looked like she had never allowed to when it actually _had been _their first time. She looked and let herself smile.

But after a moment she felt Santana's hips jerk up against the bottom of her thighs and Brittany scooted back up so she could reach her lips again.

And then the whole world flipped around and Brittany found herself with her back against the mattress. Seeing stars.

Santana's body was hot over hers. She had her arms pinned around Brittany's back- pressing them together belly to belly . The heat, the softness, made Brittany gasp and hitch her breath like she'd forgotten how her lungs were supposed to work.

Santana was trailing kisses down her neck. Open mouthed. Hot. Wet. And her hair- undone and tangled- swept over Brittany's face, down her chin- then wisped across her chest, over her breasts- moving like prelude to Santana's lips- which were now giving the juts of her collar bone kisses.

It was reflex that made Brittany jerk her hands up and wind them through Santana's hair. She opened her fingers and let the strands trail through the gaps in her fingers. It felt so soft- like Santana was giving her kisses with not just her lips.

"I want you so much," Santana whispered against the plains of her stomach.

Brittany dipped her head back and looked into the dimness at Santana's face. Santana's eyes stood out- burning- and her lips were puffed. She ran her tongue over them, leaving them glistening.

She had an idea. And she knew she'd get what she wanted so she tugged Santana lightly by the hair to make her look up.

"Take off your underwear."

Santana paused at this. They shared a look in the dark and then something made Santana shift off of her and obey.

When she rose up to Brittany again and kissed her mouth, Brittany swept her hands around to Santana's bare butt, clutching the skin there and pushing Santana's hips down against the top of the leg that Brittany had already bent upwards.

Santana's centre touched Brittany's thigh like a kiss- wet and warm and soft. She lifted a foot off the bed and Santana gasped as she mashed her hips down harder against Brittany.

After a moment Brittany pushed against Santana's bum again- Trying to her further up Brittany's body. But instead Santana arched her back so that only her hips jutted closer. Brittany could tell she had confused Santana. So, she made it obvious what she wanted to do.

Taking her hands Santana's butt and clutching the blankets, Brittany squirmed down the bed like a snake until her shoulders bumped against the insides of Santana's knees.

She had to pause then and close her eyes as a shudder of arousal beat through her in a slow wave because she could _smell _Santana. It was an urgent smell- natural, slightly metallic but also sweet.

Above her, Brittany could hear Santana making the first signs of protest- the muscles in her thighs tightened and curled under Brittany's grasp but Brittany didn't let her get away. Instead, she gave one final jerk of her hands- causing Santana's hips to jar forwards and then Brittany's mouth- quick as a flash- caught her folds and kissed them- her tongue swirling around to taste what she'd smelt before.

Santana gasped like Brittany had doused her in cold water. Her muscles tensed away from the sensation but Brittany's hands acted ike guide ropes- pulling her back in, closer. She trailed her tongue over Santana's folds again and moaned as the taste pooled onto her tongue.

Gently, using her fingers, Brittany edged Santana's folds apart and closed her eyes, tilting her neck to sweep her tongue over her clit- again and again.

And when the taste got too urgent, when Santana's moaning was too loud and her hips were rolling like a rough sea, Brittany pulled away and wiggled back up until she was actually sitting up with Santana straddled on her lap.

A moan wrenched out of Brittany as Santana knotted her arms around her neck and bent low to kiss her own taste off Brittany's mouth. And it was even hotter because Santana's hips were still rolling- bumping back and forth against Brittany's stomach.

Santana was on her knees- leaving Brittany a trianglular space between her own lap and the gap between Santana's thighs.

Everything in Brittany was throbbing- her head, her insides. She felt an ache- low, low in her stomach and it was pounding, wrenching. She ground her hips onto the mattress and whimpered as Santana's breasts shifted against her cheeks and made it so much worse.

She kissed them- above the lace of Santana's bra. hard- so that the flesh there sunk in. She did it again and again and then she took a fold of skin and pulled it into her mouth by sucking. She sucks until Santana moved and choked out her name.

And the sound of her voice seized Brittany- she became like Santana usually was- it was like they'd switched roles and Brittany couldn't get close enough, couldn't get Santana hard enough against her. There were a few seconds where their limbs gripped and slid haphazardly against one another and then Brittany reached up into that triangular space, notching her elbow downwards into the own gap between her legs so that she could stretch her fingers straight out and skate the tips of them over the slickness in the centre of Santana's folds.

Santana moaned again, and Brittany looked up, pressing her chin into the curve of Santana's breasts. She could only see the stretch of Santana's neck- all the tendons were stuck out and jerking in time to her breathing. She could see right up to the top of Santana's chin- which meant that she had her head thrown back, staring at the ceiling.

The next moment reminded Brittany of being on a swing set- rhythm built up and gravity swooping you back and forth. And the rushing is so much that you get that sour taste of adrenalin in your mouth and your muscles wind up like springs. And then there's that moment when you hang back in the air- looking at the ground and feeling your life like it's a million particles all around you. And you know what's coming- you know what the rush feels like but it still doesn't prepare you. It's an electric jolt and sends your senses sideways.

As Brittany slipped her fingers up inside Santana, gravity let them both go. Santana let out a hollow 'ooff' and her hips collapsed downwards- causing Brittany's fingers to go all the way up inside her. And Brittany's insides sunk down too- until she could feel wetness from herself on her underwear. Her other arm came around Santana's lower back, holding her steady like she had earlier at Breadstix when Santana had sat on her. Then, she hooked her fingers and began moving inside Santana. Not in and out- because her elbow was already jammed awkwardly- but scooping her fingers back and forth against all that softness.

Santana dropped her head until her chin was flat against her chest and she gaped down at Brittany- her eyes and mouth wide open, her eyebrows furrowed. Brittany met her gaze and pushed her fingers more fiercely- wanting the tightness in her chest to ease- but it gripped her tighter and tighter until she was puffing like she was running a race and Santana had her hands clasped through her hair and her body was taunt- so taunt- around Brittany's pushing fingers.

"More…" She choked. "Harder."

Brittany curled her hand and managed to point a third finger straight and get that inside Santana as well. At the extra pressure inside her, Santana's gasping became guttural. And she pressed Brittany's face so hard into her chest that Brittany's features got all squashed up. And she pulled Brittany's hair in a way that was painful but also made Brittany surge harder and harder up inside her- until Brittany's forearm muscles were silently screaming in protest and Santana was bucking up and down and crying out and swearing.

And then it was like they'd both been tossed up in the air. Santana threw her head back- and Brittany blearly noticed her throat working but either she was saying things silently or Brittany had gone deaf because she couldn't hear any words.

Then it was like the sun had come up and Santana was a gargoyal and had turned to stone- her whole body went rigid and her fingers were pointed like spears into Brittany's skull.

The only thing that moved were her insides- they pulsed and tugged at Brittany's fingers and it was harder than ever for Brittany to keep them moving.

She only managed two more strokes but it was all Santana needed to come undone. She collapsed over Brittany and became so heavy and jerky that Brittany fell backwards onto the bed- bringing Santana down with her.

They gasped into one another's faces and then Santana's body was shaking with hiccup-giggles and it was contagious so Brittany started laughing too.

After a moment Santana looked down at her and Brittany suddenly stilled because she didn't know if anyone had ever told her that they adored her without even opening their mouths.

"I love you." They said it at the same time and looked away, laughing lightly again.

Then Santana looked back and Brittany closed her mouth and reached up and traced a finger down the line of Santana's nose.

"I love you," Brittany said, by herself that time.

They laid against one another until Brittany's eyes suddenly opened and she realised she'd fallen asleep and Santana had moved off her. But not far- her face was right up close and her limbs were all tangled up in Brittany's. She was breathing, slow and steady. And her eyes were closed.

Brittany closed her eyes too and nuzzled her face right in close- edging her nose along the line of Santana's jaw and pressing her lips against Santana's pulse.

That's how she fell back asleep.


	22. Moments

**Note:**

**Aw, last chapter :( **

**I'll miss writing this as much as I miss glee- but I promise I'll start it/Avalanche 2 up when I have more episodes. **

**Thanks so much for your interest and comments and encouragement, it's been so amazing. **

**I've posted the prologue for my AU Brittana fic- No Place Else. So go and check it out! I've got chapter one in the works as we speak and that should be up soon. **

**And my Tumblr link is lumosknoxobliviate . tumblr . com if you want to check it out. **

**But for now, I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 22: Moments<strong>

_Catastrophe is made u__p of moments. Or, at least, they're what it leaves behind after it's rolled past the sun and let the light back in._

_And the moments are never the ones you'd expect. They're not there because they contain reasons to explain what happened. They're not there because they're meant to connect to one longer chain of cause and event. _

_They're there because they're the ones you need._

_The ones that give you back your meanings._

* * *

><p><strong>Monday, 10:14 p.m.<strong>

She's astride Santana and it's perfect. Small rocking motions with her hips. Not enough to take herself completely off Santana's fingers. But enough.

Because her skin is so white it becomes a canvas for the shadows in the room. And for the golden light that creeps in off the street like a stray cat. The two collide and cross section her chest and her stomach and her face.

She has one hand fisted in her own hair- elbow drawn up and out like a bird's wing. The other arm- and Santana loves this the most- is being used as a brace- palm down, sweating slightly, fingers grasping, digging in against Santana's chest- right above her heart.

Santana wonders if Brittany can feel it going and going and going- morse coding her name.

Santana licks her lips- which have dried out because of her open mouthed breathing, then she curls her wrist, repositioning her fingers- only so slightly- but it's like the movement is an underwater earthquake and Brittany is the sea above. Her breath hitches and her body jack-knives in slow motion. Her hands come loose from her hair and off Santana's chest and for a moment, she just sways- pleasure clenching her features tight against one another.

And then the face is inches above Santana's own, her elbows on either side of Santana's head. Their breath mingles as Santana strokes her fingers harder and Brittany lets out a whimper, pressing her lips hard together so that they go white. Santana pushes harder, skidding down the slope of her own arousal, trying to see straight.

Brittany's body shudders and she drops her head onto Santana's chest so that Santana can smell her hair. She cries out: once: just a moan, once: Santana's name. And then: "I need you."

Santana had always assumed that she was the one in need. But not this night. This night Brittany clings to her as hard as she can- lifelines and promises and forevers- that's what Santana feels in the long seconds when Brittany hugs her fingers from the inside and becomes jagged and frenzied and then, still.

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, 3.55 p.m.<strong>

Santana walks into the choir room and drops her bag by the foot of the piano. Its heavy- filled with a deadly dose of calculus homework. Quinn is closest, leaning around the other side of the piano, flipping absently through a magazine.

"Hey," Santana says, walking around to stand beside her. Quinn doesn't lift her chin off her hand but her eyes flick up and she smiles. It flutters on her face, it almost looks grateful.

"Hey Santana, how's it going?"

Santana shrugs. It's been an average day by anyone's standards. Except Becky's, probably, who'd had to spend the whole of Cheerios practise holding a vomit bag up to Coach Sue's face.

"Sounds bad," Quinn says. "That's probably the only thing I don't miss about Cheerios...Sue's insanity."

"Don't forget the protein shakes," Santana reminds her.

Quinn's features crinkle. "Oh god, yeah, add those to the list. Is she still making you guys drink that crap?"

"Uh huh. When I tried to tell her one girl's tongue had started going numb she just said to take it up with President Obama."

Quinn rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Then she smiles fondly.

"I miss it a lot." Her laughter hasn't died from her voice but it only makes the words more earnest.

Santana cocks her head and feels something in her chest pull for Quinn.

"So...Go ask Coach if you can join again."

Quinn slackens her mouth and frowns at Santana.

"You don't mean that."

"Yeah I do," Santana says. "Re-join."

And, because she's gotten better at telling the truth, she adds: "We miss you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, 9:45 p.m.<strong>

Brittany's bed creaks- and it's too early for the sounds to be swallowed into the night, veiled by the excuse of restless sleep.

So, they do it on the floor.

Santana is lying on her back with one arm thrown over her eyes and Brittany's head ducked between her legs. Her tongue is exceedingly gentle and her hair whispers across Santana's thighs. Santana tilts her head down to see her. Brittany has her eyes closed as her tongue curls down the length of Santana. She looks so engrossed, so devoted, so present.

Santana can't look again after seeing that. It always makes the end come too soon.

She has a hand on Brittany's head. It acts as the last shred of Santana's control; it's the last bit of her to give over to Brittany completely. Tonight is not a night where she can just relax and come undone beneath Brittany's touch. Not many nights recently have been because lately the end always rises up to greet her far too quickly- tinging her release with guilt as she watches surprise and then a flicker of disappointment ghost over Brittany's face. They've tried pushing Santana through it, connecting her first orgasm and her second without a pause or a hitch in their movements- but everything is so sensitive and raw that it becomes painful.

She feels a little like a stupid boy.

Santana wills herself to hold off, pressing her forearm so hard against her face that the top of her nose begins to ache. She curls her toes, tightens her leg muscles and her stomach. After a moment she brings in her back muscles as reinforcements but she suspects it's too late.

As a last resort, her hand claws the back of Brittany's head, trying to tug her away.

Brittany's tongue is sweltering around Santana's clit- moving in circles. The meaning of Santana's hand in her hair doesn't process for a beat- and by the time it does Santana's already at the edge.

The loss of Brittany's mouth lets her gain some form of control. But it only lasts for the briefest flicker of time- because Brittany sweeps her body up Santana's and settles on top of her, pressing the top of her thigh in the place that her tongue has just vacated.

Santana's whole body turns in on itself. Her mouth gapes open. Then she's gone. Her eyes roll back, and she closes them so she won't see Brittany pull her head up and watch her in surprise. Santana's back, even with Brittany's weight on her, curls up off the ground, and her limbs- she doesn't even have the sense to keep track of them.

She's halfway through when her phone rings. And the vibration on the desk above their heads is enough to chase the tail of the orgasm away so that Santana finishes limp and sweating- ashamed and irritated.

Above her, Brittany is smiling into Santana's frown and Santana tosses her head to the side so she doesn't have to see Brittany's attempt at making her feel better.

"Babe. Hey."

Hands softly coax Santana's head back around and then Brittany's lips are warm and soothing on her forehead, the tops of her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

They look at each other and ignore the phone. It rings and rings and rings then stops and the silence is deafening.

"I'm sorry," Santana mutters.

Brittany shakes her head so hard that her hair whips Santana's face.

"You're not allowed to be sorry."

"Well I'm breaking the rules."

Brittany wriggles her arms between Santana and the carpet and tugs their bodies completely up against one another- curling even their toes together.

"If finishing too quickly is the only thing you have to be sorry for then I think we're pretty good, don't you? And besides," Brittany's features tilt into coyness, plucking one of Santana's hands up and holding it above their heads. They both look at it. "Your skills with this aren't affected by how quickly you finish. So you're not leaving me in the lurch."

Santana raises her eyebrows and their eyes meet. She feels nothing like a boy now.

They kiss then, lazy and slow and deep. And then, as Santana slips her mouth down and bites Brittany's bottom lip, Brittany drops Santana's hand because it's needed elsewhere.

Santana doesn't check her phone until the morning. The person had called twice last night but the I.D is blocked, so she can't call them back. Her mind skips to one possibility of who it could be. And she stops herself because the thought is ridiculous.

She pushes it to the back of her mind and lets Brittany make pancakes for breakfast.

They don't call again.

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, 9:08 a.m.<strong>

Santana is in homeroom when a runner comes in and gives the teacher a small pile of pink slips. Grateful for a distraction from her mad dash to finish her essay for English, Santana trails her eyes after the teacher. He winds through the desks, glancing at the names on the slips and mapping out their positions in the class.

Santana is the last to have hers placed in front of her. Sam, Rachel and Mike are already hovering by the door looking at her. She gets up and joins them and they follow the directions on their pink slips- Please meet Mr Schuster and Miss Pillsbury in the choir room.

"Regionals practice obviously," Sam mutters.

"Or maybe Dalton has actually decided to punish Sebastian for what he's done to Finn," Rachel points out.

"Urgh. Give it up Berry," Santana snaps. "No one actually cares enough about Finn to Google him. The pictures are nothing."

They are the last group to arrive and the first thing Santana sees is Mr Schue's face. It's like a storm.

And then her eyes travel over the others- who all look as confused and as unsettled as she feels.

Brittany has saved her a seat and as soon as Santana sits down she shuffles close and threads their arms together. Quinn is on the other side of Brittany and she leans forwards.

"Coach said no," she whispers. Santana's stomach tightens harder.

"I'm sorry. I'll- I'll talk to her."

Quinn waves her hand, dismissively.

"She had her reasons. It's alright."

Mr Schue's voice stops Santana's reply. Her and Quinn settle back in their chairs and align their eyes at him with everyone else's.

"Is everyone here?" He asks.

Everyone looks around at each other.

"Kurt and Blaine aren't," Mercedes points out.

"Oh, I know that. That's alright. Everyone else?"

Santana narrows her eyes. Okay, she thinks, this definitely has something to do with Dalton. That thought makes her even less prepared for what Mr Shue says next.

"The staff have just been informed that last night Dave Karofsky tried to take his own life."

It's the way that Brittany's body flinches against Santana's that makes the words compute properly.

"No way," Puck breathes, slumping in his chair and running a hand down his face. His are the only words for a while. Miss Pillsbury's throat is working like she's trying not to cry.

"What happened?" Santana is surprised that the question comes coherently out of her mouth because it feels stuffed full of cotton wool.

"The story isn't clear at this point. But what I need to get across to you all is that he is in a safe place now and getting the care he needs."

"Was it a cry for help, did he actually intend on dy...?" Mercedes can't finish her question.

Mr Schue shrugs.

"At this point, I don't know. But whatever happened was serious enough to get him admitted to hospital and put under 72 hour watch."

It's then that Santana remembers the phone call. And it's like it makes her shrivel.

She's on her feet and heading towards the door before Mr Schue can protest.

She walks down the corridor, digging around in her bag for her phone. She thinks she's calm until she notices that her hands are shaking and fumbling uselessly. She crouches in the hallway- against some lockers and sets her bag down on the ground between her legs. She gets a hold of her phone and brings up her recent calls list.

_Missed: Unknown number (2) _

As she accesses her contact list and scrolls downwards her heart is in her mouth and it skips a beat when she gets to 'D' and can't find _Dave or David. _Bile swells in her throat when she gets to 'K' and there's no Karofsky.

She was sure she had his number. Though, she'd never cared enough to ever use it.

She's crying now, her face screwed up so hard it hurts.

She scrambles back up her contacts list and gets to A. And before she can even think twice, she's calling the person she wants most in the world to be behind that unknown number.

Her Abuela's home number rings and rings and rings and rings until, finally, there's a clatter and a male voice, who she recognises as her Uncle Terry's, speaks gruffly into the phone.

"Yes?"

"Tío. Tío, it's Santana." Her voice is all odd and wavery. She must not sound like herself at all because there's a pause and then her uncle repeats her name back to her. Really slowly.

"Santana?"

"Si, I just…" She presses her lips together and rides out another surge of tears. Her shaky breath crackles into the phone speaker. "I just was wondering if Abuela tried to reach me. I missed a call last night. Two-two calls. And something- something happened last night and I really want to- Is she there?"

The next pause lasts long enough for Santana to know the answer before her uncle says it.

"She didn't. Goodbye, Santana. I better go."

"O-okay…" The line falls dead in her ear.

Santana's legs give out beneath her and she's crying in earnest now- thinking about David's face through the window of his pick-up and that goddamn Valentine's Day card.

Brittany's knees crack as she crouches down beside Santana and wraps her up in her arms.

"I think he called me. Just before...I mean...the numbers blocked but I think he tried…"

Santana can't get any more words out and Brittany just holds her and rocks a little, her lips stamped against Santana's temple.

They stay like that until the silence is broken by Santana's phone which lights up, buzzing with an incoming call.

Santana picks it up and looks at the 'Unknown Number' phrase flashing on the screen. She and Brittany exchange a look and then, steeling herself for the sound of Karofsky's voice, her heart in her throat at what she might hear, she presses 'answer.'

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, 3.30 p.m.<strong>

"I still don't get why he called you and not me," Blaine says, shoving his hands into his jeans pocket and glaring through the window of the Lima Bean at the back of Sebastian's head.

"He told me it was because he knew you wouldn't hear him out." It's the third time Santana has had to remind Blaine.

"And- and how did he know about Karofsky on the same night that it happened?" Kurt asks, his eyes also lined up with the back of Sebastian's head.

Santana rolls her eyes, sick of lingering outside the café like stalkers and sick of having to repeat herself.

"I've already _told _you," she grits out. "All Sebastian said was that he knows a couple of guys that go to school with Karofsky and that he did it in the afternoon and by the evening- when Sebastian tried to call me- it was already spreading around the school. _And," _She holds up a hand as Kurt opens his mouth. "I've already told you that I don't know why he called us here; just that he had some stuff to say. And also, _I'm _doing the talking, kaapesh?"

Blaine holds up his own hands in submission.

"Sure, fine. I personally couldn't give a rat's ass what he has to say so feel free to lay into him on my behalf."

"I'm so sick- I'm sick of all this crap," Kurt says, jamming to toe of his shoe downwards to scuff the sidewalk. "He's not important, Santana. You should have just ignored him. He's just a stupid bully who doesn't deserve anyone's time and effort. Dave's in hos-"

Santana cuts across him.

"You know, it's funny you should mention Dave. Because I recall that your opinion of him not too long ago being exactly the same as your opinion of Sebastian now."

"What are you trying to say Santana?" Blaine asks warningly. Kurt's face hardens his eyes boring into Santana's. She meets his gaze head on.

"All I'm saying is that you don't know what it's like to feel so shit about yourself that you have to torment other people. Dave does. I do. And Sebastian probably does as well. I mean, if I resembled a rodent as much as he does I'd hate the world and everyone in it too."

Brittany snorts with laughter beside her but Blaine and Kurt are still looking at her like they're deciding whether or not to be offended.

"You can't just… When something like this happens- with Dave...we can't just ignore idiots like Sebastian. We've got to make him see that whatever crap is going on in his own life is worth dealing with rather than projecting it onto everyone else. That's what I…" She looks to Brittany, before she can stop herself. "Just, trust me," she says, her cheeks flushing. She drops her eyes because Brittany's face is open and proud and Santana really does not want to let Sebastian see her crying.

"Wow. Alright I'll give it to you Santana that was well said." Blaine's nodding at her, impressed.

"Mmm," Kurt simpers, "I'm impressed. But, I really don't think going all '_we're here to help you with your inner suppressed pain'_ is going to work with this guy. We tried the nice approach with _Black and White_."

Santana snorts. "God. No. That's not happening. I'm still going to tear this guy a new one. But we just have some weight to throw behind it with what happened to Karofsky."

They all pause then. And it kind of reminds Santana of one of those 3 minutes of silence that they do every year on September 11- with everyone grim and reflective. Then Kurt sets his jaw and looks back up to the window.

"Alright. Let's just get this over and done with."

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 6:18 p.m.<strong>

Mercedes is the one who says what everyone is thinking.

"I'm not in the mood to practice tonight."

"Ohthankgod," Puck mutters, dropping Tina's hands and crumpling to the floor, hiking one foot up to his face and pressing into the sole of it with his thumbs.

There's an overall shuffling as all the other couples shift away from one another. The only two left clasped resolutely in their position are Finn and Rachel. And even then, it looks to Santana like Rachel is physically holding Finn in place.

"No, no, come one guys," she whines. "We've gotten this far, only a couple more hours and then…"

"Hours?" Artie holds up a hand. "Uh-uh. Not happening."

"Hold on." Quinn's voice travels over the room. "We just need an incentive to keep going."

Rachel rounds on her. "Oh I'm sorry. I forgot that today's teens rate pizza, booze and sex as higher incentives than _winning._ That should be all the motivation we need. Now, come on Finn."

She jerks them through the movements- which is super awkward because Mercedes has turned the music off so now all Santana can hear are their shoes squeaking and Rachel's intake of breath every time Finn steps on her foot.

"I could…Uh…Pizza actually sounds kind of awesome," Sam pipes up sheepishly from beside Sugar.

"Agreed," Rory adds.

This earns them a death stare from Rachel, but Quinn stands up and brushes her hands demurely down the front of her skirt.

"I'll volunteer my car and some cash if someone comes with me?"

"I'll come!" Brittany says immediately, scooting away from Blaine to bounce over to Quinn.

"Uh…" Rachel begins.

"I'll come too," Santana raises her voice, walking over to join Quinn and Britt. Brittany smiles and gives her a kiss hello on the shoulder. Things like that still make Santana go red and grin like an idiot, but she tries to supress it while she's giving everyone a fierce look.

"Come on, cough up- We ain't paying for all of it."

When everyone- bar Rachel- has contributed some money, Quinn, Brittany and Santana head out to the parking lot to Quinn's car.

It's been so long, but none of them falter amidst the ritual they once performed every day. Quinn unlocks her driver's door- because her central locking is broken- and leans over to flip up the front passenger seat lock for Santana- who in turn opens the door and curls her arm around to unlock the back door for Brittany.

Brittany slides into her place in the middle of the back seat and buckles the over the shoulder seatbelt which, Santana notes fondly, still has a furry frog cover Velcro-ed to it that Brittany brought Quinn two years ago. Brittany had been so excited by it that Quinn had let her put it on the belt she used instead of the driver's seat one.

When Santana looks back over her shoulder Brittany is stroking the tip of her finger along the top of the frogs head, smiling down at it.

"Still got that old thing," Quinn says. Santana looks across and sees that Quinn has been watching Brittany too in the rear-vision mirror.

"Mr Toad," Brittany mumbles fondly, still stroking him.

Quinn drives them out of the car park and just as she hits the main road her phone lights up and goes crazy in her centre console.

She reaches for it and glances down. After a pause, she snorts and looks away from her phone- veering the car- which had drifted slightly- back fully into their lane.

"Read this."

Santana takes the phone that Quinn's holding out to her and looks at the message. It's from Sam.  
>"<em>Rachel caved. Make sure u get a vegan 1." <em>

Santana rolls her eyes to Quinn.

"Urgh. Friggn typical."

"What is?" Brittany peeps her head in between them and leans her chin on Santana's shoulder. Santana lifts the phone to her face and watches her read the message.

She snorts too and tosses her head away from Santana's, settling back in her seat. She starts humming along to the opening bars of 'I Love the Way You Lie'- which has just come over the radio.

Quinn and Santana exchange smiles and then break away into laughter as the song hits the second verse and Brittany's voice jumps several notches in volume because she's more comfortable with the lyrics- rapping fluidly along to Eminem's bit.

Santana reaches behind her and knots her fingers in Brittany's.  
>"You should be the one rapping on Saturday instead of me baby," she calls back over her shoulder.<p>

Brittany squeezes back but doesn't break rhythm.

_"You ever love somebody so much,  
>you can barely breathe when you're with 'em<br>You meet, and neither one of you, even know what hit 'em  
>Got that warm fuzzy feelin', yeah them chills used to get 'em…"<em>

Quinn joins in suddenly, bouncing a hand back and forth above the steering wheel like a gangster. Santana screws up her face in mock disgust and switches her gaze between them.

Quinn knows the words just as well as Brittany, but she's laughing a little so she stumbles over them. Santana feels herself soften as she looks at Quinn and then she's grinning too.

The verse winds up and Brittany snatches a breath between words.  
>"You're Rihanna, San! Go!"<p>

There's something about the way Quinn and Brittany both turn to her- breathless and bright eyed- that makes Santana close her eyes and sing her heart out.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday, 11:15 a.m<strong>

As soon as Santana shuts her bathroom door, she leaps away from it and bounces around on the tiles, waving her arms like an insane person. She's breathing heavily when she stops and catches sight of herself in the mirror.

She shakes her head at her reflection and then grins like an idiot.

"We won," She says aloud, and laughs.

Santana realises then that the things she cares about have a tendency to creep up upon her. Brittany did. And glee club has.

Santana drops her eyes down to the plastic bag she'd laid out across the sink- her bridesmaid's dress. The others- Tina, Mercedes, Sugar and Brittany- are in her room, changing there. Santana just needed a moment to fully let the joy take her over. She had suspected rightly that it could be a slightly disturbing sight and she preferred to do it in solitude.

She peels the bag halfway open and then changes her mind and takes off her Regional's costume first.

The bridesmaids dress is pink- which she hates- but it looks okay, kind of nice against the tone of her skin. She tosses her hair over one shoulder and regards herself in the mirror. Who's she kidding? She looks hot.

She twists her arms around her back, her fingers slipping on the pitifully small zip. She tugs, slips, tugs, slips and it doesn't budge so she turns in circles, chasing an angle that will let her move the zip.

When she hears laughter coming from the doorway she stops and turns around.

Brittany's halfway inside the bathroom, her eyes soft with amusement. She's in her dress already. By the way it hugs her hips and sits right on her shoulders Santana can tell that her zip hadn't decided to be as much of a bitch as Santana's has.

"I love how silly you are sometimes," Brittany says softly, stepping over to her and taking a hold of the zip, easing it up Santana's back.

The material tightens around Santana's body as the zip climbs higher and just as Brittany gets it to the end she dips her head and kisses Santana's back.

"There," she steps away. "Turn around."

Santana does, feeling shy as Brittany's eyes sweep up her.

"You're perfect," she says breathlessly. Then she presses her lips together and goes red.

Santana smiles so wide that it hurts.

"I love you," she says back.

They step up to one another, tilting their faces close. Santana watches Brittany's eyes flutter closed in anticipation. It's one of the best things Santana can think of seeing in her whole life.

They're interrupted by banging on the door.

"Santana!" Mercedes called. "There's someone on the phone for you!"

Santana steps around Brittany and opens the door. Mercedes is holding out Santana's cell phone. She's grinning.

"Who is it?" Santana asks, frowning.

"Just take it and see. I think you're going to like this."

Santana's eyes switch very slowly back to the phone. There's one name on her tongue and she wants to ask Mercedes for confirmation so that she can prepare for the shock of that voice. She's missed it so much.

Mercedes shakes the phone in front of her face and raises her eye brows.

"Go on," she urges.

Santana takes the phone, takes a breath and turns back into the bathroom.

She presses to the phone to her ear and listens to the static on the other end.

"Abuela?" She breathes and she sees Brittany's face light up beside her. Santana surges on. "Abuela I- thank you for calling I…I've been really wanting to speak with you…"

"What?"

Santana loses her breath at the sound of the voice at the other end.

"What?" She says back, her chest clenching.

"It's- it's Quinn. Didn't Mercedes…"

There's an awkward pause. Santana works bitterly to contain her tears. Brittany is hovering around her, her expression sunken in concern.

"Quinn. Yeah. Sorry," Santana mumbles.

"Sorry…Hey I…I just called to tell you that Coach Sue changed her mind about the Cheerios and invited me back. She gave me the uniform and everything. I'm- I'm wearing it now." She laughs lightly at herself.

"That's great! Cool. Good, awesome. That's so cool," Santana babbles.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. And Santana, I just wanted to thank you. I… Well, I never thought I'd say this…but I'm kind of looking forward to being a part of the squad with you as Captain."

"You are?" Santana's surprise is muted. Everything feels muted. She doesn't even try to make herself sound grateful but she thanks Quinn anyway. She must sound really awful because the tone of Quinn's voice has deadened when she speaks again.

"…Yeah. Yeah alright well that was all I called to say. I guess I'll see you at the wedding."

The line goes dead before Santana can say she's sorry.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday, 2:00 p.m.<strong>

Santana has her eyes closed, her head tilted upwards and resting against the wall of the waiting room. She's glad the blood is rushing so hard in her ears because it means she can hardly hear the sound of the others crying. Mercedes and Rachel, she thinks. Tina too, and Sam. Maybe they all are. Santana's just glad she doesn't have to hear them.

Brittany's hand is in hers. Their palms are sweated together and their knuckles are squeezed painfully against one another.

And God, she just wants to get up with Brittany and go. She wants Brittany to sit in the passenger seat of her car and cradle a six pack of beer between her thighs while Santana drives. And when they go to drink them they won't even care that Brittany's skin has made them warm because they'll still enjoy fizz on their tongues and the taste of it in each others mouths. And they'll be at their lake- the reeds will be warm and the water welcoming like it's summer again. And Brittany will throw herself in first. And Santana will stand on the bank, caught in that moment of fear that lasts until her head breaks the surface and it's one of the wonders of the world- watching Brittany disappear and come back again.


	23. Up, Up, Up

**Aaaaaaaand it's back :)**

**Sorry about the wait for the new chapter. It feels good to be writing this again.**

**This works around the events of 3x15: Big Brother**

**Thank you to rabbitxdrummer who beta'd this.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Ch 23: Up, Up, Up<strong>

"Brittany, stick out your tongue."

Brittany looked up from the floor or the choir room where she had glue bottles, colored card, crayons and glitter scattered around her like a storm.

"What?" She asked, looking like she was trying to speak without opening her mouth. From above her, Mercedes frowned.

"Open your mouth, Brittany."

Brittany shot a pleading look at Santana, who was sitting on one of the choir room chairs, her feet resting on the piano stool. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Leave Brittany alone," She snapped at Mercedes and then turned back to her own creation in her lap. So far all she had done was fold the red card in half and write Quinn's name on the front of it in Sharpie- big and loopy.

Mercedes was persisting.

"_Brittany,_ you can't scare me off with Santana. Now open your mouth."

Santana looked up again and watched Brittany give in, huffing a sigh so heavy her shoulders lifted up and down. She opened her mouth and lulled out her tongue. It was sparkling.

Mercedes gasped.

"Oh my gosh Brittany, that can be like so bad for you. You should wash it off! I thought you'd just been chewing on one of those pen lids again."

"Buth ma tung is sparkrey," Brittany said with her tongue still poking out. Santana brought her hand up to her mouth to hide the grin forming on her face as Mercedes threw up her own hands and turned away.

"Oh, lighten up wheezy," Santana scoffed. " It's not like Quinn's going to even give two shits about these cards." She plucked at her own in her lap. "She can't even walk for Christ's sake. I mean, her legs will go all chickeny and bent like Artie's and she'll have to have help everywhere and it just…"

She faltered, realizing that Mercedes' face had dropped and Brittany had pulled her tongue back in, looking glumly at the paper all around her. "...it fucking sucks," she finished.

"Yeah, well," Mercedes rose her voice bravely, "it's better to actually _do _something rather than just sit around blaming yourself like Rachel."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't even, no. Don't even _talk _to me about Rachel. Her blubbering is all about the fact that her Hollywood-esque wedding day became the Quinn Is Half Smeared All Over The Road Show rather than the Jurassic Park meets Bride Wars flop that she was lining up for."

Mercedes and Brittany both darted their eyes away again- Brittany back to the floor, where she absentmindedly ran a fingernail over her tongue, flicking away some of the glitter that had collected there. Mercedes had her hands on her hips, looking at the banner they'd managed to hang up above the whiteboard in the choir room.

The three of them had stayed late at school to get ready for Quinn's first day back and Mercedes had become weirdly fixated on the idea that banners and balloons would make up for the fact that no one knew whether Quinn could go to the bathroom alone.

Mercedes had managed to coax Brittany and Santana in to help her with the magic words- 'decorations'- which sent Brittany into trills of excitement so endearing that Santana couldn't say no. Yet, after Mercedes realized that Brittany's creative vision for Quinn's welcome back differed alarmingly from her own (Brittany had suggested that they make Quinn a wheelchair friendly obstacle course followed by a game of musical chairs where Quinn won because she always had a chair), she distracted Brittany with the task of making Quinn a get well card.

And, after she'd refused to take a trip down to the local florist for ridiculously expensive bunches of balloons, Mercedes had demoted Santana to card maker as well.

But Santana had no clue what to write. "Get well soon" didn't work, because Quinn _was _well. Freakishly so. Whenever Santana went around to her place to hang out Quinn had never been laid up in her bed like an invalid. She'd always had her wheelchair parked in the lounge- angled perfectly so that she could talk to whoever was on the couch and also see the TV if they decided to watch a movie.

It was always vibrant and bright in her place and oddly, it always smelt like home baking. Quinn's Mom would breeze in and out of the room, delivering drinks and snacks with a smile on her face that looked like she was about to go all American Beauty on their asses. Brittany had warned Santana not to look her in the eye, just in case Quinn's Mom started fantasizing about Santana covered in rose petals.

"Hey ladies!" Kurt walked into the choir room- all hip sway and gummy smile. "What's with the 5 year old art project?" He looked down politely at Brittany's card.

"Get… Zeddie…Quinn…" He read hesitantly. "Britt, that's not how you spell 'better'."

Brittany followed his gaze down to her card. "I'm not trying to spell better. I'm trying to spell Zeddie. Did I do it right?"

"What is Zeddie?" There was laughter in Kurt's voice.

"You know," Brittany tilted her head up, looking impatient. "Zeddie Little. The really photogenic guy that ran a marathon and looked like he was model. He's famous on like...Facebook and Twitter and stuff.

"Ohh," Kurt nodded, though to Santana it looked like he suspected Brittany was mildly insane. "And erm, how does that relate to Quinn?"

"Coz like, Zeddie makes running look hot and Quinn makes wheel-chairing look hot and I wanted her to know that anything can be easy if you have a perfectly symmetrical face. And," she gestured enthusiastically at her card, "lots of glitter."

Santana was doubled up with laughter at the look on Kurt's face. He took several steps away, muttering, "oh, that's pleasant."

Brittany caught Santana's eye and Santana winked at her. Brittany flushed and ducked her head, grinning into her glitter dusted lap.

"Does this look okay?" Mercedes asked as Kurt approached her. She gestured up at the banner.

"It's perfect." He nodded.

"Really?" Her voice was strained. "I don't know… I just don't know what exactly to say to her."

"Well, I think 'welcome back' is a pretty good start."

Mercedes nodded, but she seemed unconvinced. Then she walked over to the back of the piano and leant against it, looking at Santana. Kurt followed suit.

"What's she like, Santana?" Mercedes asked in a small, tentative voice. "Is she like...super depressed?"

Santana shook her head.

"No, she's not depressed at all. She's like bright and shiny and happy joy joy. Actually," Santana frowned. "I mean, sometimes she gets like those little kid TV presenters that speak with a permanent smile on their face and have LSD eyes, but I'm guessing that's just because of her meds."

"Sometimes she'd scary," Brittany said in a small voice.

Santana shook her head. "Not scary. She's just...well… dealing. But she's not like crying all the time and threatening to park up a hill with her wheelchair brakes off if that's what you're worried about."

Mercedes looked slightly comforted. "Alright," she nodded, pushing up off the piano. "Well, I better go and get the balloons. Wanna come?" She asked Kurt.

As soon as they left, Santana sat up in her chair.

"Urgh, okay. I'm done with this," she said, scrunching up her card and tossing it into the box on top of the piano that housed all Rachel's sheet music suggestions for her solos at nationals. "Come on Britt-Britt."

She approached Brittany and held out her hand. Brittany took it and stood up against her, threading her arms around Santana's waist and dropping her head onto her shoulder.

"I don't want Quinn to get racing gloves like Artie has," she said in a glum, muffled voice against Santana's neck.

"She won't, I promise," Santana soothed, rubbing a hand up and down her back

Brittany pulled back a little so they could look at one another.

"You _promise_?"

"Yes, silly!" Santana tucked an arm between them and tweaked Brittany lightly on the end of her nose. "Now get your phone and text Quinn and ask her what she feels like for dinner, we'll bring her take out."

"You text her," Brittany said, pouting slightly. "I'm scared I'll make her crash again."

The look in Brittany's eyes was so genuine that Santana felt a strong tug of emotion. She pulled Brittany back against her and pressed her lips to her temple.

"Fine. I'll do that while you get that glitter off your tongue so I can kiss you."

* * *

><p>Quinn had texted Santana back telling her to choose what they had for dinner. So of course, Brittany and Santana approached Quinn's front door holding matching brown paper bags with the Breadstix logo on them.<p>

"I got your favorite," Brittany said, kneeling down on the floor of Quinn's lounge and setting the bag on the coffee table. She drew out a plastic container full of salad and handed it to Quinn, not realizing that Quinn was several feet too far away to reach.

"Uh, babe." From her seat on the couch behind Brittany, Santana nudged her with her foot. Brittany looked up at her, looked where she was jerking her head, and realized her mistake.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Quinn," she bumbled. Santana could see the tips of her ears grow red. She started to get up off the floor to move closer to Quinn, but stopped when Quinn held up a hand.

"It's okay Brittany," she said. "I have _wheels, _remember?" She edged her chair forwards and awkwardly lent over the arm rest, extending her hand as far as it could go toward Brittany. It wasn't nearly far enough.

"Here," Brittany said, shuffling forwards further and leaning right across the table.

Quinn took a swipe at the container and managed to get it, dropping it onto her lap.

"Sorry," Brittany said.

"It's fine," Quinn in a clipped voice.

Santana stilled a forkful of her pasta halfway to her mouth, watching Quinn warily. But she was looking down, cracking the plastic lid of her salad open. Brittany took her own meal from the bag delicately, like she was scared to upset Quinn further. Then she sat back against Santana's knees and began to snap the lid off of her container like Quinn.

They all focused their attention on the TV, until it cut to the ads. Quinn picked up the remote from the side table that had been placed beside her chair and turned the volume down. Then she dropped it, picked up her fork and roughly stabbed some lettuce onto its prongs.

Santana slowed her chewing and watched as Quinn as she raised the fork to her mouth, thought better of it and then tossed it into her container. She placed it beside the remote on the side table and the swiped her palms against her knees.

"Sorry, I'm not really that hungry."

"Oh, no, no no," Santana shook her head and swallowed her mouthful. "Don't worry. It's okay."

Quinn nodded slowly and then tilted her head.

"Hey, I forgot to ask, how was Cheerleading regionals on Saturday?"

"Oh it was great, yeah," Santana ducked her head to swallow. "I mean, Coach showed up late and one of the freshmen actually _pissed _her track pants while we were waiting to go on. But, we won." Santana flashed a grin.

Brittany turned to look up at her, nodding.

"Santana was awesome. Like...so unicorn. She yelled at everyone just like Coach Sylvester would and everyone calmed down after that. She totally stepped up."

Santana rolled her eyes away from Brittany's adoring over the shoulder look, and caught Quinn's eye, intending to shake her head and dispute what Brittany had said but stopped when she caught Quinn's mechanic smile.

After a pause Quinn cleared her throat. "That's good. I'm glad it worked out. And hey, I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I wanted to but…" She trailed away.

"That's totally cool," Brittany said, attempting reassurance. "They didn't have any ramp entrances to the stadium anyway."

Anyone could tell by the tone of Brittany's voice that she'd meant it to be consoling, but as Santana registered the words, she stiffened, shifting her eyes carefully to Quinn.

She looked like she'd been slapped in the face.

"Wait, no. I mean… That's not…" Brittany, seeing this, began to stumbled over her words, and shot a look at Santana, pleadingly.

Santana opened her mouth, unsure of what exactly she was going to say, but she was saved as Quinn picked up the remote, switched off the TV and flashed them another winning smile. It reminded Santana of Brittany's "Get Zeddie" card and suddenly she could see the logic. Quinn really had her smiles down. But Santana was also beginning to realize that they were false bottomed- carrying a whole world of things that were as far away from 'happy' as a person could get.

"It's fine. But I'm really tired now. Do you guys mind if we call it a night?"

"But we just got here…" Brittany said in a small voice.

Santana could see Quinn's patience fraying.

"I know, but I'm tired and I'd just like to get an early night before school tomorrow."

"No, it's cool," Santana shoved her fork inside her pasta container and put the lid on. Then she rose from the couch, stepping out from behind Brittany. "We'll leave you to it."

"Thanks." Quinn barely even attempted a smile this time.

Brittany stood up too and clamped her own container lid on, hugging it to her chest, the fork protruding from her mouth. She was looking around like a kid lost on their first day of school. Santana took her hand and squeezed, tugging her lightly a few steps forward.

"Night Q," she said.

"Night guys." Quinn's voice was faint and she was sitting watching them with her hands folded carefully on her lap- her face giving nothing away.

The cool, still interior of Santana's car was a welcome reprieve from the tension that had permeated through Quinn's house. Once they were safely shut inside, Santana and Brittany both relaxed into their seats and turned their heads to look at one another.

"You were right I think," Santana said quietly.

"About what?"

"Quinn is kind of scary."

"She's sad," Brittany said, screwing up her lips in a grim pout.

"Yeah." Santana took a breath. "I wish there was some way we could get on her level. Like I wish there was a way…" She paused and searched the branches hanging over her windshield.

"What like… get wheel chairs too? Coz I lost mine the last time we did that."

Santana smiled slightly and turned her head on the headrest to look at Brittany.

"No like… I don't know. It's just hard. What do you say to her?" Santana put on a high, earnest voice that she associated with Rachel. _"Oh, hey, Quinn, you're in a wheelchair that sucks. Question: Do you use one of those old people chairs in the shower?"_

Brittany let out a breathy laugh. "I don't think they're just for old people. Artie had one too."

Santana was about to return her laughter but a thought struck her instead. She sat upright and banged her palm against the steering wheel, making Brittany jump.

"Oh sorry," Santana turned to her. "But that's it!"

"What's it?" Brittany blinked.

"_Artie!_"

"Artie's it?" Brittany frowned. "Since when were we playing tag?"

"No, no. He's the one that can relate to Quinn. He'd be freaking perfect to show her that just because she's in a wheel chair doesn't mean she's an Autobot with no emotions."

Brittany's mouth dropped open and gave an animated gasp.

"And they can bond over shower chairs!"

Santana leant across the center console and planted a kiss on Brittany's grin.

"Go on then," She gestured to Brittany's lap. "Text him."

* * *

><p>"My head," Brittany shook it vigorously back and forth," I can't feel my feelings after that emotion tornado exercise."<p>

She and Santana were heading down the dim corridor towards the car park after attending Cooper Anderson's Master Acting Class.

Santana laughed, pulling Brittany into a one armed hug. "Numb feelings aside, isn't Blaine's brother totally awesome_? God_," She vaulted her eyes to the ceiling . "We were totally given the wrong brother. Maybe he'd consider taking over taking over glee?Like wouldn't it be a nice change to have someone who actually knows what performing and succeeding is really like?"

Brittany wrinkled her nose, and opened her mouth to reply, but was drowned out by the sound of shrill voices and laughter rising up behind them. Brittany and Santana turned around to see Rachel, Tina, Finn and Mike coming towards them down the corridor.

"I think we should get Tacos!" Mike shouted, pointing forcefully at Finn.

"I agree," Finn said, jabbing his finger back at Mike.

Tina burst out laughing, pointing erratically around at no one in particular.

"That's dedication," Finn laughed.

"But an incorrect use of the dramatic point," Santana added.

They had drawn level and all looked around at her in surprise.

"You point during drama, not humor," she explained.

"Yes!" Rachel's face lit up, pointing severely at Santana. "She's right Tina. During humor you're supposed to _raise your voice _and nudge your scene partner whenever you make a joke."

"That's right," Tina nodded. "I've got that in my notes but I forgot."

"You have to have it up here," Rachel instructed, pressing her fingers to her temple.

"Exactly," Santana said, pointing.

As Rachel, Finn, Mike and Tina broke into laughter, Santana swung her grin around to Brittany, who was standing watching them all, tugging at her bottom lip with her fingers. Santana knew that look. Brittany did it when she was nervous, or trying to figure out how she wanted to explain something.

Rachel had noticed too. "Didn't you like the class, Brittany?" She asked as they all started down the corridor again.

Brittany twitched her eyebrows into a brief frown and then released her grasp on her lower lip.

"I liked it okay. It was funny but I dunno," she shrugged, "I was just saying to Santana that it made me feel like I couldn't feel my emotions."

Rachel nodded seriously. "Oh yes. Yes and _that, Brittany,_" she pointed so close to Brittany's nose that Brittany went cross-eyed momentarily, "is exactly his point! Remember he said you're not supposed to know what your character is feeling?"

"Yeah, uh-huh, I guess," Brittany said, moving her head politely away from Rachel's finger.

Santana waited until they had reached the car park and had split off from the others towards her car to press Brittany further for her opinion.

"You really didn't like the class then?" She said, twisting her key to unlock the car and looking at Brittany over the roof. Brittany didn't answer and ducked her head inside. Santana followed suit.

"Come on, fess up," she persisted as they settled into their seats.

"I thought it was funny," Brittany said, shrugging. "You liked it though, right?"

Santana started the car and spoke while she twisted around, checking thatthe space behind it was clear.

"Well, at first I thought he was a complete freak. Like… Rachel Berry with even more testosterone than she has now…" She edged the car out of the park and curved it around to the entrance. "But then I thought about it, and he totally has the right to be up himself. He's successful, and people know his name. Hell, Kurt was practically jizzing his skirt over him. Right in front of Blaine too. You can't deny that the guy has something."

There was a moment's pause and Santana shot a look at Brittany.

"Don't you think?" She urged.

Brittany just shrugged, and looked down to pick at a finger nail. Santana huffed and turned her gaze back out at the road, deciding to drop it.

But it didn't take long for Cooper Anderson to burst his way back into their lives. They'd gotten back to Santana's place, showered, shared bites of the one left over piece of pizza that Santana's parents had been gracious enough to leave in the fridge for her, and then gone up stairs and curled together on Santana's bed. While Brittany attempted to read the book she'd been assigned in English, Santana got bored and turned on her small TV that sat on the desk. She hardly ever used it, but she knew how much Brittany wanted to finish that book and Santana had made her mission not to let the smell of her perfume, or the softness of Brittany's breasts pressing into her side, coax her into breaking Brittany's concentration.

The TV took a moment to fuzz to life, but when it did, a familiar face filled up the screen, and Cooper Anderson marched towards the camera. Santana recognized that hewas using what he'd called the _'smile like a robot with your eyes and Asian geisha with your mouth' _technique that he'd taught them in class.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," she said smugly, nudging Brittany up from her book. Brittany blinked at the screen and gave an exasperated smile.

"That commercial is everywhere."

"And for good reason!" Santana replied, grinning at her cheekily. Brittany swatted her.

"Turn it down so I can read."

Santana pouted and shifted closer up against Brittany's side, trailing her fingers lightly across the skin on the back of her neck.

"I think you've done enough reading," she murmured, pressing her mouth against Brittany's ear.

"Not _nearly _enough," Brittany said, not looking up, but Santana felt her quiver slightly, and the breath stall in her throat. Grinning, and knowing she was winning, Santana shifted again, swinging one leg over Brittany's lap so that she sat straddling her. Brittany's book had been pushed up against her chest by Santana's stomach. Whisking her loose hair around one shoulder, Santana took Brittany's face in her hands and kissed her gently, open mouthed and enticing.

She felt Brittany's mouth give under hers, a moaned sigh passing from it onto Santana's tongue. She felt Brittany moving as they kissed, and out of the corner of her eye she could see her patting the blankets beside them, finally picking up the remote and jabbing a button, cutting Cooper Anderson's voice dead. Then she brought her hand in between them, pulled the book out and tossed it aside. Encouraged, Santana shunted her hips forwards, and bit down slightly against Brittany's lip.

"You think you've done enough of this?" Santana drew back and asked in a breathy whisper.

Brittany's hands were wrapped around her waist, tugging her insistently forwards. She shook her head, looking up at Santana through heavily lidded eyes.

"Not _nearly _enough."

* * *

><p>Ever since she was a kid, Santana always had a feeling she would die on a roller coaster. She'd had an excuse to avoid them until she turned 11 and started being tall enough to reach above the height restriction bar. From then on, she'd had to make her excuses more creative.<p>

Brittany wasn't buying anything she came up with. As soon as they passed through the ticket barriers at Six Flags, Santana had led Brittany in a half jog to the spinning teacup ride but Brittany had tugged them off course, following the others over to the most lethal looking ride in the whole park- the great hulking green roller coaster that Sam and Puck had spotted from the bus when they were waiting in traffic.

"I don't…no," Santana let Brittany bring her so far as the platform to get into the carts and then she dug her heels in.

"It'll be awesome San, I promise!" Brittany cried, already stepping into her seat.

"Grow some balls and get in, Lopez," Puck added, nudging her with his shoulder.

Santana pushed him along the platform and rolled her eyes, steeping as casually as she could into the cart.

But when everyone had seated themselves in and pulled the safety bars down over their chests, Santana's nerves demolished any sort of calmness she'd been bluffing.

"Really, this isn't my idea of awesome," she said to Brittany beside her, ducking her head under the awning covering the carts in order to see the track ahead of them. It inclined rapidly. "This is not going to be... Holy shit!" Her hands sprang around the bars hooked over her body as the carts all jerked forwards and then settled into a more even pace- heading steadily towards the incline.

Santana slammed her eyes closed and after a moment, felt Brittany tug at her hand, prising it off the bar to squeeze it in her own.

"You're missing the view!" Santana heard her call.

"I'm busy watching my life flash before my eyes!" she called back.

"No, come on, open them!" Brittany squeezed her hand. Santana could feel the wind wafting over them as they reached a snail's pace, their carts clacking higher and higher into the air. Santana held her breath and fluttered her eyes open and instantly regretted it. She felt her stomach swoop as she took in the green blobs that had been masquerading as trees not 2 minutes ago.

"We're so high," she said in a giddy voice, inching her head back and forth ever so slightly- she was scared her movements would unbalance the car. Brittany had no such reservations, and was leaning over the side of the car as far as the safety bars would allow. Santana squeezed her hand extra tightly, preparing herself to have to steady Brittany from falling to her death.

Taking a steadying breath, Santana fixed her eyes on the cart up ahead of them. She could see Sugar doing some kind if excited dance while Kurt twisted this way and that, ohhing and ahhing and tugging at Sugar's sleeve to point something out. They were nearing the top of the rise now, clacking excruciatingly slowly. Santana looked over at Brittany, jerking their hands to get her attention.

"Britt," she called when Brittany swiveled around to face her, "if we die I want you to know I luuuvve… oh my fucking god!"

They'd taken off without warning, and Santana's words were ripped away from her as the stomach swirling sensation of falling took her over. She let go of Brittany's hand and clutched the bars for dear life, crying out as her body was shunted back and forth against the bars.

Behind her she could hear Sam and Puck whooping hoarsely and a high pitched keening scream from up ahead which Santana guessed with either Sugar or Rachel. Or maybe Finn.

As they neared the two giant loops that would swoop them upside down, Santana squeezed her eyes closed once again and resigned herself to her fate. She could hear Brittany's voice calling to her over the whirring of the carts and the screaming.

"Saaan! Saan, look!"

Santana peeked her eyes open and swiveled them sideways without turning her head. Brittany had both hands lifted off the safety bars and her arms were extending above her head which was tipped sideways towards Santana.

"Wooooo!" She called, her eyes bright and exhilarated. "Look San, no hands!"

Going cold with panic, Santana shook her head furiously and snatched at one of Brittany's hands.

"Hold the goddamn bar," she shrieked, half hysterical.

Brittany just intertwined their fingers together and tipped her head back, letting out a trail of laughter as the roller coaster dipped them down and then turned the whole world on its head.

* * *

><p>When Santana eased them into her driveway that evening, she could still feel the swooping motion of the ride. It had been the last one she'd consented to go on that was classified on the Six Flags map as a thrill ride. She'd restricted Brittany to the "Family Fun" section of the park- whose rides turned out to be just as life threatening- including a ten story high death trap that posed as a carousal. Luckily, Brittany had gone overboard with the candy floss early in the day- so that they had mostly just ventured around the arcades hand in hand.<p>

The several rounds of bumper cars everyone played together presented a beautifully legitimate excuse to ram Rachel Berry at high speed. After being edged into a corner and hit a couple of times, Rachel threw up her hands, rolled her eyes and got out of the car. During the next round she refused to play and instead prowled around the edge, making loud carrying remarks about the insensitivity of playing bumper cars after what had happened to Quinn. That hit a nerve, and Mercedes was the first to stop her car and get out- leaving Santana thoroughly unsatisfied with her perfectly lined up hit of Mercedes car.

Brittany seemed to have also been influenced by Rachel's comments because the next thing Santana knew, she was being dragged over to an imposing looking caravan with its side up, revealing a line of targets and a wall of stuffed toys.

"We should win one for Quinn," Brittany whispered, traveling her wide eyes over the toys.

Santana glanced along the rows of stalls around them. "Yeah that would be all well and good if either of us had ever shot a gun in our lives. Why don't we try…" Santana looked back over her shoulder. She spotted Rachel and Finn nearby at another stall- which looked like it would just sell you the goddamned soft toys. "There," Santana said, pointing. When Brittany didn't respond Santana looked back around to see she'd already exchanged money for a plastic gun and had widenedher stance, cocking her head and closing one eye to aim.

"Don't...hit...the...toys…" Santana heard her mutter to herself.

Brittany had three shots, but she didn't need them. She hit the bull's eye on the first go and pulled her face back from the gun, looking at Santana with wide, bright eyes and her mouth half open in a gasp of excitement. Santana hadn't been able to stop her grin and pulled Brittany against her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and stepping forward still pressing them together as Brittany leaned over and choose her prize- A fluffy yellow duck.

That evening as they drove home, Santana managed to convince Brittany to wait until the next day to drop the duck off at Quinn's. But, excited as she was, Brittany decided on sending her a text as they neared Santana's place.

"_Hope you had a unicorn ditch day with Artie, Q. We had a cool time, but wished you could have been there. We got you a surprise, see you tomorrow." _

She read the text out and looked up at Santana for approval. Santana nodded and then twisted the keys out of the ignition.

"Come on," she said opening her car door, "bed."

Brittany nodded, a smile squirming onto her face, and got out of the car to follow Santana.

The house was dark and quiet, sleep hanging in the air as fragile as china. So when they stepped thought the front door, they stealthed their way up to Santana's room.

"Shower?" Santana asked when she eased her door closed and turned to look at Brittany.

She'd put Quinn's fluffy duck toy down on Santana's desk and had kicked off her sneakers and wiggled out of her Cheerios skirt so that she was standing in the top half of her uniform, her underwear and her socks. Santana grinned and stole lightly across the carpet towards her.

"That was fast," she murmured as she reached Brittany, circling her arms around her waist and tugging up the back of her shirt so she could stroke the skin there. Brittany shifted closer and hummed a happy noise in her throat.

"I'll take a shower in the morning. I'm too tired now."

Santana nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Bed then," she said, pulling away and beginning to undress herself.

She was down to her bra and underwear when she looked up and noticed Brittany hadn't moved to take off any more of her own clothes. Instead she was standing where Santana had left her, frowning down at her phone in her hands.

Santana walked back to her as she unzipped her uniform top and shrugged it off.

"What? Did Q text back?"

Brittany shook her head and pressed her lips together, looking guilty up at Santana.

Santana dropped her eyes quickly to the message on the screen, seeing it was from Artie. Immediately, a trill of panic shot through her as she connected Brittany's guilt to a text from her ex-boyfriend. Santana shot her hand out and took the phone off of Brittany, turning it the right way up and scowling at the screen.

"_Back to the drawing board- Ditch-day with Quinn was a bit of a fail. She got upset at the end and left. She's pretty resolute on pretending that nothing has happened._"

Santana read the message over twice, feeling her panic being replaced by a sinking disappointment. She looked up at Brittany and stuck out her lower lip.

"That's too bad."

Brittany nodded solemnly. "Poor Quinn."

Santana tossed the phone over on the bed and wrapped her arms around her. Brittany sunk into the hug, and tucked her head into the crook of Santana's neck.

"We'll figure something out," Santana murmured, passing her hand down the back of Brittany's head. "We'll start by giving her that fluffy duck and go from there. Okay?"

When Brittany didn't answer, Santana pulled back slightly and shook her.

"Okay?" She repeated. Brittany lifted her gaze to Santana and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

Santana tucked her close again and kissed her- soft enough to be reassuring, but deep enough to make Brittany's breath catch.

"Let's just not think about it right now," Santana whispered against Brittany's lips. Then she kissed her again.

With only a moments hesitation, Brittany opened her mouth to Santana and let the kiss become deeper**.** Santana sucked a harsh breath through her nose and squeezed her eyes closed harder, funneling all her senses into Brittany. It was almost too easy to block out everything else.

* * *

><p><strong>Questions and comments and whatnot can be asked via my tumblr: lumosknoxobliviate. tumblr. com<strong>


	24. Nobody, Baby

**Here's chapter 24, dealing with 'Saturday Night Gleever'. This one was tough!**

**Thanks to both **rabbitxdrummer and **Mellowslinky. ******

******And a quick note- because of the lack of information about Brittany's future- and how she's dealing with it, I've decided to let Glee get further a head until I begin this again because I don't want to try and write around something as big as that. I'll leave the explanation at that for now, but if you want to know more about why, please just drop me a PM or and ask a**t my Tumblr- lumosknoxobliviate. tumblr. com. I'll be happy to explain. **  
><strong>****

**Ch 24: Nobody, Baby**

It had all started when Brittany was on her bed, looking at magazine. The magazine had a brown rabbit on the front and it was called 'Pet'. Her Grandma Pierce had a subscription and when she was finished she'd pass on a stack to Brittany's Mom and Dad who'd put them beside the toilet in case anyone got bored while they did their business and wanted to look at animals. Brittany had picked it up while she was doing her business just because she got bored, but the article she picked turned out to be the most interesting thing she'd ever read so she took it with her back to her room. She flopped back onto her bed and lay on her tummy, spreading the magazine out over her homework and continuing to read.

The article was about pedigree cats. She had three favorite things about the article:

The Burmese breed could be traced back to a single cat.

The study of cats was called Felinology.

There were such things as 'Squittens'- cats with short front legs like a squirrel.

Brittany was so interested in the article that she decided she was going to put it on her wall. She extracted her ruler from between the piles of books on her bed and lined it up carefully against the inside seam of the first page. Then she put her tongue lightly between her teeth- so that she could bite down if she got too anxious- and edged the paper slowly sideways, ripping in a nice, neat line.

She'd gotten three quarters of the way down the page- just past a photo of a Russian Peterbald that kind of looked like Mr Burns- when three things happened at once. The first was Brittany's door opening really hard and fast, so that it banged against the wall and bounced back with a loud noise. The second was that Brittany's hands jumped away from the magazine and third was that she got such a fright that she bit down hard on her tongue. She looked up hurriedly, clamping a hand over her mouth in pain as her tongue started to throb.

Santana was coming across the room to her bed, breathless and flushed, her eyebrows drooping a sort of concern but something else too that Brittany couldn't figure out.

"Sorry Britt-Britt! Did I scare you?"

"Yesp," Brittany tried to say, but her tongue felt fat and useless in her mouth. She kept her hand there- not knowing whether it made much difference to the pain, but too scared to take it away in case it hurt more.

Santana flopped down on her stomach beside Brittany so hard that she made all Brittany's books and stationary bounce up into the air. Then she rolled on her back and passed a hand over her tummy. Brittany looked sideways at her, and she couldn't help but notice the way that the angle Santana was laying made her breasts rise up, rounded out of her bra. She had on a tank top underneath a zip up hoodie which was unzipped and hanging open, just off one shoulder. Even though Santana's chest was almost pure awesomeness, and the way that Santana was running her palm around her ribs and stomach made Brittany a little breathless, Brittany alsoshe had questions that she didn't want to be distracted from. Santana wasn't supposed to be at Brittany's house because of the stack of college brochures she was meant to be going through. There were _a lot _of colleges and Brittany was almost certain that Santana couldn't have gone over them all in just the three hours since she'd dropped Brittany off after school.

"What happened to the brochures?" Brittany asked.

"I chucked 'em," Santana replied instantly- like she'd been waiting for Brittany's question.

"Oh." Brittany passed her eyes slowly over Santana's face- and she noticed something that made her feel giddy- not in the excited, pre- lady kisses way but in the scared way. Santana's eyes were dark and challenging. And Brittany would have almost described them as 'hard' if she didn't already know that eyes were actually soft and squishy.

She took a breath to ask Santana why she'd put the brochures in the trash when Santana opened her mouth again.

"Yep, I'm done with college. It's all just a trap and all you wind up with is a piece of paper, no job in sight, a shitload of debt, and boarder-line alcoholism. So, I'm done with it."

"Oh," Brittany said again. She didn't quite know what else she wanted to say- and even if she did she was pretty sure she wouldn't say it because she didn't want to get Santana upset.

Santana was still looking at her with her brow furrowed, her mouth set in a hard line. Brittany decided she better nod. She knew it didn't make any sense to nod, but she also knew it was better to nod than not to do anything. Besides, nodding meant that Santana would think Brittany was agreeing with her.

The thing that Brittany was scared of the most was Santana's eyes. Last year, Santana had stood up in front of the glee club and told everyone that she was in love with Dave Karofsky. She'd held his hand and smiled and she'd worn a really hot skirt and blazer that made her look super awesome. But she'd looked around at the glee club with those same eyes – dark and brooding like a storm. She'd put her walls up and no one could challenge her. The day that that had happened, Brittany had gone home and put her head under her pillow and tried to cry out the ache in her chest from seeing Santana gone.

Now Brittany just lay on her bed with her mouth dry and her heart pounding into her mattress. Santana was beside her, buzzing with tension.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her eyes darting all around Brittany's face.

Brittany lifted her shoulders up and down and then lied.

"My tongue hurts."

Santana pouted. "Sorry I scared you."

Brittany shrugged again. And then she looked down because she had just remembered what she'd been doing before Santana had burst in. Her ruler had scattered away from the magazine, and the page she'd been trying to extract was nearly ripped in half.

* * *

><p>Brittany kept things ordered in her head using lists. She liked lists because they could never be too long (unless they were lists from Rachel explaining why she should get the nationals solos). She also liked lists because she could sort out all the important stuff so that any time she needed them she could come back and find things easily.<p>

Brittany hadn't made any lists in the last two days, ever since Santana had burst into her room hating college and made Brittany rip her pedigree cat article. She didn't think what had happened over that last few days could be sorted out because it was all a mess; the taut feeling in her chest was still there and so was Santana's craziness. In fact, it had gotten worse, because Santana had made up her mind about what she was going to do instead of college. She wanted to be famous like Blaine's brother. She'd seen his episode of NCIS, and even though he just played a dead body, she became obsessed with everything he'd told them about being famous. The night before, Santana had even stopped sweet lady kisses with Brittany just so they could discuss what outrageous things she'd require in her hotel when she was being flown around the world. Brittany wanted her lady kisses, so she'd shushed her by tugging at her jaw to bring her closer and whispered that she was starting to sound like Rachel.

But that had been an oops because Santana had jerked her head away really hard and glared.

"Don't you think I can be famous like Berry wants to be?" She asked.

And even though Brittany believed with her whole heart that Santana would be, her words had come out all funny and her ears had gone red with the frustration of not being able to say anything right. And then Santana had looked at Brittany again- her eyes so, so, black- and moved carefully but very deliberately off of her. She turned her back and kept ridged and still and wouldn't let Brittany cuddle her. It was only when she had fallen asleep that Brittany was able to shuffle over and sneak her arms around her and it was habit that made Santana subconsciously relax into Brittany's warmth. That had made Brittany sad and happy all at once- because sleepy, cuddly Santana was her secret Santana and no one else's. What was even worse was the next morning, when Santana had woken and rolled out of bed without a word- getting ready for school in the bathroom instead of with Brittany in the bedroom.

And then in Glee Club, Mr Schue did two things that forced Brittany to make an _'Annoyed At Mr Schue Because:' _list. He'd ruined the plot of Saturday Night Fever- which Brittany had always wanted to watch, but had avoided because she didn't want to get sick on Saturday nights, and he'd made it so that Santana got even more obsessed with the fame.

After their disco-dance off glee club meeting on Wednesday, Mr Schue had made Santana, Mercedes and Finn stay behind to find out who would win the white suit. Brittany had headed to Cheerios practice alone, and warmed up with the others.

In between the Glee club meeting and Cheerio's practice Sue had gone to inject hormones into her esophagus and she'd left Becky in charge. Whenever this happened, someone would be quick enough to turn off Becky's loud speaker so they could all goof off while she tried to figure out how to turn it back on. Brittany was joking around with a couple of the newer Cheerios members when she was jabbed in the ribs from behind. She turned around to find Santana grinning at her. But the jab had been more painful than anything else and Brittany rubbed at her ribs while Santana pulled her out of the squad's earshot.

Once they were far over by the rolled up netting for badminton games, Santana stooped tugging and stood so close that the toes of their sneakers were touching. She looked up at Brittany through her eyelashes, lowered her voice and said: "You and I have got somewhere else to be right now. _Fuck _Cheerios practice."

Santana hardly ever ditched Cheerios practice and it made it made the mess in Brittany's head worse.

She tried to ask where else they had to be, but Santana was already leading her out of the gym.

"My bag…" Brittany started, but Santana shook her head warningly and Brittany fell quiet under those dark eyes.

Santana led her right out of the school and down to the bleachers. They were deserted because it was later in the evening and all the dimness made Brittany's skin prickle. Santana was tugging her and walking so fast that Brittany almost tripped.

"Sa-an-taa-na-" she said, her voice jigging with every quick tumble of steps they took. "Coach is gonna be mad."

"I don't give a rat's ass," Santana snapped, not even looking back over her shoulder at Brittany.

She stopped them when they got to the wire fence that prevented anyone from going under the bleachers and expertly flicked the lock open, clanged back the gate and pulled Brittany into the space. It was where Quinn had hung out when she was part of the 'skanks'. It smelt like damp and smoke and it was cold. Brittany looked hesitantly up at the dark underside of the beams which cut the evening sky into slivers above their heads.

"Brittany." Brittany looked down and saw Santana sitting on the couch that Sue had given the skanks when Quinn had agreed to be in the sad video about how Glee club made her crazy.

"Brittany," Santana repeated, her voice edged with impatience. Brittany started because she'd been thinking too much the first time and hadn't replied.

"Yeah?"

"Come here."

Brittany walked over and sat by Santana. The couch smelt a little, and she couldn't tell whether the cushions were cold or damp. She decided not to lean back against it in case she got AIDS. But she didn't have much choice over the matter when Santana promptly surged against her, kissing her so hard their noses bumped together and Brittany's mouth was filled with the sweltering heat of Santana's tongue. She was jerked back against the cushions and Santana switched them around so that Brittany felt herself being pressed flat out along the couch with Santana on top of her.

Brittany could hardly speak because Santana was kissing her so much, and then when she wasn't kissing she was breathing hard and sort of groaning Brittany's name. Her hands were everywhere- on Brittany's boobs- squeezing them through Brittany's uniform- and then up her thighs and then- wiggling against the tight elastic of Brittany's spankies.

Brittany felt like she was drunk- she was all light headed and her thoughts were like wispy clouds rather than heavy dark ones like they had been. It felt nice not to think of anything, but it was scary at the same time. Santana was being rough and desperate and she was tugging against Brittany's spankies so hungrily that her fingers slipped and the elastic snapped back against Brittany's privates - which made her jump and stung a little so that she stuttered amidst their kisses.

The old Santana would have pulled back and jumbled over apologies, giving Brittany light little kisses to make up for it. But Santana with the dark eyes just yanked them more firmly aside, deepened their kiss with a long, vibrating moan onto Brittany's tongue, and then put two of her fingers deep inside her.

It stung- and made Brittany's hips quake at the pressure- but she guessed that Santana had thought that meant she liked it, because she rolled her hips against Brittany and groaned again.

It didn't take long for Brittany's body to get over the shock and respond of its own accord but at the same time it was like Brittany wasn't really part of it all. She was going through the motions but there wasn't all that bursting emotion that made her see stars whenever Santana kissed her or even touched her.

"Babe," Brittany whispered, but Santana didn't stop. So when Santana groaned and tried to kiss her again Brittany jerked her head to the side so that Santana's lips missed. It made Santana pull back and frown. It also made her still her fingers.

"What?" She whispered.

"This couch is real gross," Brittany said on impulse. It was true, but it wasn't the right truth.

Santana's frown deepened, and for a moment Brittany thought she was going to yell. But she didn't. She pulled her fingers out and sat up off Brittany. Like always, Brittany felt a keening ache whenever Santana left her- whenever she'd take her fingers away. But it was usually it a happy ache because Santana would have her wrapped warm and all loose and undone.

But now, Santana pulled away from Brittany and let all the prickles of cold get back to her skin. She sat up and moved away from her on the cold smelly couch. Brittany sat up too and tried to straighten her ponytail. Her chest was bound tight as a rubber band- but she could feel it beginning to unwind. The tears were hot and heavy in her throat and she gulped down air- not able to speak.

When the gulping turned into crying, Santana spun towards her so fast that it startled Brittany and broke the rubber band on her tears- bringing sobs right out into the air around them.

"Babe," Santana exclaimed, skidding across the cushions and tangling her arms around Brittany- pulling them together untidily. "Don't cry, no, don't cry. I'm sorry. I know… I know what I did wrong and I'm sorry."

Brittany tried her very best to control her crying because she didn't want Santana to think she was hurt or sad. Neither of those things explained how she was feeling. She was just overwhelmed and tired. She was really tired.

Santana was stroking the hair off of her forehead- and Brittany liked that. She leant her head on Santana's shoulder and tried to breathe evenly. The couch and the messy tears made her want a shower and she thought maybe Santana was back to Brittany's Santana because she stood them up real slow and murmured, "I'll take you home. We'll go home and we'll have a bath. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

It was really dark under the bleachers now, and Brittany really wanted to leave before they got murdered, but before they did that she stopped and pulled Santana up against her. She kissed her- warm and soft and she hoped it would take away the wounded look that Santana had.

"Don't get sad San. I'm not sad."

But Santana was staring at her in disbelief. "What are you then?"

Usually, Brittany had a list for these sorts of questions. She could be "good", "fine", and "awesomely unicorn" all at the same time, but she couldn't be "good", "fine" and "upset", or; "good", "awesomely unicorn", and "nervous." She knew that it wasn't the way feelings worked which meant that her feelings must have been broken because she felt "comforted" and "nervous" at the same time. She didn't know how to mix them to make an emotion baby that would cover both so she just shrugged and said a bit of the truth.

"I don't understand how you're going to just be all famous and not have to go to college. Mr Schue said we have to turn our dreams into a plan but I can't see your plan and it makes me get worried and then I get all tight…" Brittany paused when she realized what she'd said," ...not down there though but...well yeah, down there too... and everywhere else so that I can't do lady-love stuff because it hurts but I also can't do much else because everywhere else feels all wound up too. Like today, instead of doing my math test I drew a bird."

Brittany stopped talking because she had to breathe, and when she looked at Santana she saw that she had her melted ice cream face on- the one that is all puddles of sweetness. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners and she stepped forwards and hugged Brittany so hard Brittany couldn't breathe- but that was okay because it helped slow down her hiccuppy tears.

"I love you so much. _God, _I love you. And I'll show you. I'll show you how I'm going to deal with the future thing okay?" She pulled back and gave Brittany her "I want you to nod" look. "Okay?"

Brittany nodded.

"Mr Schue gave us an assignment to try figure out how to own our dreams and trust me," she bopped Brittany lightly on the tip of her nose. "I got this."

They left the bleachers, and they didn't go back into the gym. When they walked past it they could hear the squeak of sneakers and the whine of Sue's loudspeaker, but Santana navigated them away toward the parking lot, her arm wrapped tightly around Brittany's waist. And all Brittany could think of was how their footsteps were exactly in time- like there was only one of them.

* * *

><p>Mr Shue's assignment for Santana, Mercedes and Finn turned out to be using a Saturday Night Fever song to explore what you wanted to do with your life.<p>

The next morning, Santana was scheduled to perform her song, but she wouldn't tell Brittany which one she was going to do- which made Brittany feel like it was the evening before Christmas. After they'd taken a bath together, Santana had set her up in bed with food and One Tree Hill and then left to go practice. She'd promised that it would help explain everything to Brittany. That's what she'd said.

The song was called "If I Can't Have You" and Brittany hadn't heard the original, but she was pretty sure there was no way it could be sung by anyone other than Santana. Watching Santana up on the disco floor had made Brittany radiate pride. It swelled up and clogged her throat and made her eyes cry but she was so, so happy. Santana was perfect and her voice took Brittany's breath away. The nicest thing was that even though Santana would look around the room, smiling and engaging everyone else, she'd always end up back in front of Brittany, or her eyes would dart over- like Brittany was her anchor.

But then after the song, Santana had called fame her mistress- and said that she couldn't live without it. Everyone had looked at Brittany after Santana said it. Brittany had felt their stares and their silent questions but she just kept her eyes trained straight on Santana and smiled extra hard.

After Glee club practice, Santana caught Brittany's hands and kissed her quickly on the side of the mouth.

"See you at lunch baby!" she called, and darted out the door to get changed back into her uniform, leaving Brittany blinking and completely blank about what to do. So she began to walk to homeroom even though it wasn't time for class yet.

While she walked, Brittany thought that she should try make a list about the ways she could help Santana be brave. She was so busy thinking about that and looking at the floor at the same time that she walked right into a set of lockers (because she didn't walk in the middle of the hallway enough.). She hit her forehead and her nose and stumbled backwards.

"Ow." She rubbed her nose first because it hurt the most.

"That was one of the greatest feats of intelligence I think I've ever seen you display Brittany. Barney the Dinosaur would be proud of you. Maybe you're ready to go to the toilet on your own."

"I already can," Brittany turned around and Coach Sue was standing in the hallway behind her, wearing a crooked half smile.

"Oh I know, sweet Brittany. Thaaat," she ducked her head close and said her words slowly, "was sarcasm. But that's a grown up word so never mind."

"I know that…"

"Uh-uh-uh," Coach Sue waggled a hand in front of her face. "Don't think too much. I want you as lucid as possible for this little chat we're going to have."

Brittany felt her thoughts thicken. She didn't like it when Coach Sue said that stuff. "Can you tell the future?" She asked.

Coach Sue just smiled and jerked her head for Brittany to follow her.

When they got to her office, Coach Sue went around behind her desk and sat in her chair and leant. She pulled her hands to her stomach and looked at Brittany.

Brittany sat down in the chair on the left side of the desk. She hadn't been in Coach Sue's office alone for a long time, and it felt weird not having Santana beside her in the right chair. Once, when Coach had been super mean to them, Santana had reached over under the desk and held Brittany's hand. That had been a long time ago, before they'd joined Glee club.

Brittany was pretty sure that Coach was going to say something mean about her missing practice the day before, so she held her own hand under the desk.

"Now, Brittany," Coach's voice was grave and she shifted in her chair so that she could lean her elbows on her desk and steeple her fingers, "before we go any further, I want to address the camel toe in the room that was your lady's jumpsuit in her performance just now."

Brittany didn't know what a camel toe was but she didn't say that. She clenched her hands around one another more tightly.

"But," Coach continued, "aside from that I think you and I both know that Santana has got a few issues that need to be flattened out- not including the ridiculous silicon bags that are hanging off her chest. I warn you now Brittany- they may be fun to motorboat but give it 5 years and you'll be able to bunch one up and whirl it around like a lasso."

Brittany tilted her head to the side and tried to image using a boob as a lasso. "I don't…"

"Never mind, never mind. I digress. I'll be frank with you Dipsy, in 7 years, when Kitty Kelly embarks on her research tour for her Unofficial Biography of one Sue Sylvester, I will _not _have one of my former head cheerleaders be tracked to the back alley of Hooters, shooting up cooked washing powder into her ear drums. That would be a horrendous smear on my reputation equaling, if not surpassing, the shame of my head cheerleader from the 2007 squad who went on to become an environmental activist," Coach spat the last words out like were a chicken bone she'd been about to swallow. "If Sand-bags carries on this way then I'm afraid she's _off_ the squad for good."

Brittany pressed her lips together and squeezed her hand with her other hand so hard she thought her knuckles might break through the skin. She could feel her ears and cheeks getting so hot that they were throbbing. She also thought she might cry soon.

"I don't want Santana to be kicked off the Cheerios." She tried to speak with her lips really close together so that none of the control she was using not to cry would escape. "What do I do?"

"Well, use whatever depraved acts you do to make her follow you around looking like the pug dog from _Milo and Otis. _Then try to subvert the course of her inherent racial affiliation with speaking loudly and wearing skirts that show the bottom of her butt cheeks and try and get her to come up with a future plan good enough to merit inclusion in the "_Sue Sylvester and the Stars she has Influenced" _chapter of my biography."

Brittany swallowed.

"What if she doesn't listen?"

Coach took off her glasses, shrugged, and said: "I'm going to have to find a new cheer captain."

* * *

><p>One thing that nobody but Brittany knew about Santana for a long time was the fact that she was lying when she said she'd just joined the Cheerios to meet boys and be popular. Ever since their first practice, Brittany had watched Santana go through their routines until she was out of breath and sweating, the concentration mademaking her face angular and her mouth pinched and Brittany had slowly realized that Santana was far more invested in cheerleading that she let on.<p>

There was the way that Santana would mouth the dance steps to herself, and gush the air out of her chest in disappointment when she messed something up that made Brittany fascinated by her. Even though dancing was like breathing to Brittany, she had been in awe of Santana- at the deliberation that she put into the moves and the way she made them almost a scientific process. She had the voice for the calls too- loud and clear and commanding. Not like Quinn's frail voice which had been her one downfall while she was cheering (apart from the baby that she got).

Santana had gotten in early to the state wide cheerleading magazine that was sent out to coaches, sponsors and parents. Once, she'd even landed Brittany a cover- but Santana had still been the one that who got the interview inside because she made everything sound like it had already been written by a journalist. When the copy with Brittany on the front had arrived she'd eagerly ripped off the cover and put it in her locker. But she hadn't thrown away the rest of the magazine like she'd told Santana. She'd kept it so that she could read Santana's smart words whenever she wanted. She'd even recorded a video of Santana practicing. And when they'd been split into different groups to perform last year at Regionals, Brittany had taped Santana's part and put it on her computer so that, like the article, she could watch Santana be amazing even when Santana wasn't around.

Brittany left Coach Sue's office going over all this in her head until she felt fuzzy and panicked.

She knew that Coach had been serious, because her office was a serious place and only serious talks happened there. Which meant that Brittany had to come up with a plan really soon, because getting kicked off the Cheerios would really hurt Santana's feelings. And Brittany had a funny feeling that it would make her fame obsession worse.

When Brittany got home from school she was exhausted and sad. She dumped her bag by her bed and flopped belly first onto it- not even using her arms to break the fall. It made her go "hummphh," as the breath was snatched out of her, but it felt good to hit hard against a comforting place- and really know it was there. She opened her eyes into slits and inched her hand up under the pillow near her head and tugged out the t-shirt that Santana had worn to bed the night before when she'd stayed over. Brittany folded the material around her index finger and then brought it up to swipe slowly around her cheeks, lips and the tip of her nose. After a moment, she stopped and just held it hard against her nose and inhaled its scent. It smelled like Santana's sleepy skin and her deodorant.

The smell made something swell in Brittany's chest and up her throat- until it felt like she'd swallowed a balloon whole and it was floating its way back up. Brittany missed Santana- even though she'd seen her just before school finished. She missed all the things Santana used to be sure of- like how she wanted to make her place in the world matter and change things. She'd talk about it sometimes- little things she thought could be altered about the world, but then she'd brush them off with a snide remark. Luckily, Brittany knew the sounds of Santana's truths. She knew them by heart. And she listened very carefully for them.

Brittany tried to think of all the things she could do to make Santana not want fame and want her old goals back. She tried to think of movies which could help, but the only one in her mind was Cinderella Story with Hilary Duff and Chad Michel Murray. She and Santana had watched it in bed a couple of weeks earlier because Brittany loved Chad Michael Murray. But then she'd been distracted by how when she lay behind Santana and looked over her shoulder at the movie all she could smell was Santana's perfume. And how heavy and warm her boob was when Brittany accidentally touched it while they were trying to get comfortable.

Brittany decided to stop thinking about movies and sweet lady kisses with Santana because it didn't help her figure out any plan. She sat up and leaned over to rifle through her school bag, pulling out a few sheets of clean paper and a pen. Then she pulled her binder over from where she'd dropped it across the mattress and used it to lean on. At the top of one of the pieces of paper Brittany wrote:

_Santana's Future _

She underlined it and put hearts on either end. Then she wrote: _Things Santana Is Good At:_

_Sex_

_Singing _

_Dancing_

_Smelling nice_

_Being mean to Rachel Berry_

_Cooking_

_Kissing_

_Cheerleading_

_Running baths_

_Being in baths_

_Sex_

_Getting free food from Breadstix_

_Wearing lingerie_

Brittany lifted the tip of her pen off the paper and ran her eyes back up the list. There were heaps more things she could add but she thought if she kept going she'd never be able to figure out how to use them to make Santana want to go to college again.

And then suddenly, a word and an idea jumped into her head like a double attack on her senses. She launched herself back over the bed and searched through her bag until she'd found the list she'd made earlier in the day after she'd talked to Coach Sue. Her '_How People Get Famous Super-Fast' _list. She scanned her way through it rapidly, her heart beating really fast in her chest, until she found the one right at the bottom, with the longest list of celebrity names beside it. Sex tape.

* * *

><p>They'd done it on the one and only night it had rained over their Christmas trip to Santa Fe. Brittany's parents had decided to stay in and rent a movie. They'd asked Santana and Brittany to join but Brittany had told them no thank you. She and Santana went to their own room down the hall and made out for ages while the rain tapped insistently on the window. After a while they decided to go down to the shop across the road and gets snacks. In the elevator on the way back up, Brittany had decided that she wanted to make out again, so she'd set down the shopping bag and beckoned Santana closer, jutting her hips out so that their middles pressed together. Brittany had had <em>a lot <em>of practice, so she knew exactly how to kiss so that Santana's eyelids go all heavy and her mouth opened to let her fast breathing out. When their kiss ended, Brittany knew she'd made Santana really flustered because she bit her lip, looked up at the illuminated numbers that showed the floors passing and blew air up her face in frustration.

"Can this thing hurry up? I just want…" Brittany saw her eyes bug as she lifted them to the ceiling.

"Oh shit," she muttered, dropping them back down and giving a breathy kind of laugh. "They have cameras. I bet we just made some security guard a very happy man."

After that, Brittany couldn't stop thinking about what it must be like to watch her and Santana kiss. Just the thought of it made her insides tug excitedly. So, when they got back into the hotel room Brittany firmly locked the door, threw down their bag of candy and went to the bedside table to open her laptop. Santana, yawning, flung herself on her back across the bed, and turned her head sideways to watch Brittany.

"What movie do you wanna watch babe? You can choose."

Brittany didn't answer the question while she brought up the 'Photo Booth' program and switched it to video mode. Then she tossed her hair over one shoulder and looked at Santana, looked back at the screen, and angled it on the bedside table to that the bottom half of the bed and Santana lying across it could be seen. Brittany could see through the picture on the screen that Santana was frowning at her.

"What are you doing?"

Brittany turned around and shifted onto the bed, swinging her knee over Santana's hips so that she was straddling her. Santana looked back and forth between Brittany above her and the recording video on the laptop with her eyebrows quirked up.

"Uh… Britt?"

"I want to see what it looks like when we kiss," Brittany whispered. She lowered her head, cupped Santana's face so that she had to look up, and then kissed her soft and deep on the mouth. Santana sucked the air in sharply through her nose and groaned. It urged Brittany on. She made the kiss coaxing and heavy and then soft and teasing- and muddled it altogether until Santana's body was rolling beneath her own and her hands were clinging onto Brittany's shoulders.

As they kissed, Brittany left one hand on Santana's face, but travelled the one closest to the camera over Santana's boob, slipping it inside her bra. When she found Santana's nipple already swollen into a tip, Brittany took her mouth from Santana's and lifted the material up, angling it so that it hid Santana's boob from the camera. Then she lowered her mouth to Santana's nipple and took it gently into her mouth. As she sucked with her lips and swirled her tongue over it, Brittany looked up into the camera and watched herself do it, feeling all her insides liquefy as she saw the camera capturing Santana's face, just above Brittany's shoulder- her eyes closed and her mouth parted in a moan, her hands and fingers all trussed up through Brittany's hair.

That video was the shortest of a series of four, because just after that Santana had squirmed her way out from under Brittany and hit the 'stop' button, before trying to launch herself back onto the bed. But Brittany had made them sit together and watch it. It had been a good idea because when she looked over at Santana she saw that Santana's breathing was shallow, and she was staring at the screen in awe.

After that, it hadn't been hard for Brittany to convince Santana that they should make another one. The next recording showed Brittany laying on the bed with Santana standing over her, slowly taking off her top and unbuttoning her jeans, then crawling up to straddle Brittany, her hair a dark mass over one shoulder, her eyes raised hungrily to Brittany's face as she bent down and trailed her tongue from the line of Brittany's underwear right up to in between the cups of her bra.

The next two Brittany decided that she shouldn't watch while she was trying to sort her plan out, because she never ended up being able to do anything while those videos were playing- except try to breathe. She sat up on her bed and stretched across it to her bedside table to snatch her phone. She clicked into her contacts and when she got to the right name she hit 'call', settling her laptop onto her lap as she waited for the call to connect.

* * *

><p>"Alright, so once you have your in and out points of the clip, you can now hit the 'insert' button I told you about before and that will put the clip in the timeline."<p>

Artie was speaking nice and slowly.

"Got that?"

"Insert button…insert button…" Brittany muttered under her breath, sweeping her mouse around the screen until she remembered. "Hah! Yep, okay…it's… it's added!"

She shifted the phone up higher with her shoulder so that it pressed harder to her ear.

"Yuss, good work. Now you just have to do that with all the bits you want to include in your video."

"Cool and you'll…"

"Yep, I'll come over tomorrow after school and help you from there."

"Cool! Thanks for this Artie."

"S'all good," Artie said, "I'm actually excited to see LT, it's been a long time since we hung out."

Brittany laughed. "He'll be a pretty big star and I have him on a tight call schedule tomorrow so don't expect a very long conversation!"

"No, no," Artie chuckled, "it'll be down to business pretty quickly."

Artie had processed Brittany's sex tape idea really well. He hadn't even been weirded out, Brittany didn't think, although it was hard to tell over the phone. His voice had gone all sort of high and weird but he'd cleared it and it had gone back to normal.

Brittany knew she was going to need help editing and she knew from when he'd helped her with Fondu for Two that he knew how to make videos awesome. The best thing would have been to have him with her and helping her right now- but she couldn't do that until she'd edited out the naughty parts of the videos that were only for her and Santana.

While she'd been looking through her videos on her lap top she'd found ones she'd taken last year of Lord Tubbington cleaning. She'd recorded them for her next online video project of her documentary about domesticated cats, but it had never really gotten off the ground. She told Artie about them when they were on the phone and he said that she should use them to mix up the sex tape- and make it so that they could call it 'Two Girls One Pussy'. But Brittany had decided that it would make her and Santana sound like conjoined twins so she'd suggested 'Two Girls One Cat'.

Brittany was uber excited about the plan until it came to the next day and she and Artie were sitting in the library with the video all ready to upload. Brittany had her finger hovering over the 'upload' button but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She looked over at Artie, who was nodding at the screen.

"Come on. Do it," he urged.

"But what if…what if she gets really mad at me and breaks up with me?" She bit her lip to stop herself saying anything else, because she didn't think talking to Artie about this stuff would be okay. Artie tilted his head at her and ducked it close.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and serious. "Brittany, you're doing this to _help _her. And sure, she's going to be a little freaked out and annoyed but once she gets what you were trying to do she'll thank you for it. _Trust me._"

Brittany looked at him and wished the things he'd said could make her feel better. But she still felt all twisty in her stomach.

"Let me just watch it one more time okay."

Artie rolled his eyes. "Fine."

They plugged in an ear phone each to their ears and Brittany clicked play. Immediately, the soundtrack of a porno movie that Artie had added under the clips began. Brittany had to smile, because straight away Lord Tubbington filled the screen- purring and ducking his head around the camera lens to try and get past it to Brittany.

The video was only two minutes long- but Brittany had scrutinized it so many times it seemed way longer. When it was done she took her earphone out and looked at Artie.

"Okay," she breathed, nodding.

He pressed his lips together and nodded once too. Then he leant over, and clicked the 'upload' button.

"Auto-bots roll out."

* * *

><p>There was a long, cool moment of silence after Brittany finished telling Coach Sue what she'd done. She had a hand curled around her mouth and she was frowning at Brittany, thinking really hard. Then she took her hand away and picked up a pen, clicking the tip in and out. Brittany had her hands clasped together again, the butterflies in her stomach were going crazy.<p>

"Interesting," Coach Sue said, really slowly, looking down at her pen. Brittany looked at it too, not sure if that's what Coach thought was interesting. But then she put the pen down and smiled so widely that Brittany was a bit weary.

"You know, for a while there I was very seriously considering having you wear a helmet during Cheerios practice because I was concerned that one more blow to the head could mean the end of your ability to dress yourself. But now I see that you've got some sort of," she waved her hand around Brittany's head, "twisted genius up there somewhere I think this could be something we really capitalize on here," Coach said, picking up her pen again and clicking it vigorously. Then she swiped a bit of loose paper from a pile near Brittany and began to write furiously.

She wrote for a long time- and she almost took up a whole page. A couple of times she stopped and drew a sharp line through a few words and then carried on again. Once she'd finished, she didn't let Brittany read it right away. Instead, she swiveled her chair around and bent down to open a cupboard that Brittany hadn't seen before. Then she shut it and turned her chair back around, placing a black lump in a plastic wrapping on the desk and sliding it, along with the paper across to Brittany.

Brittany blinked down at the page. "What's this?"

"It contains a monologue that you shall perform verbatim to Santana and it stands as a step up from your plan- to completely annihilate any scrap of desire she has to become famous. Do you understand me?"

Brittany gulped under Coaches ridged gaze, but she nodded and turned her eyes down to the paper. "Yes your Highness." Then she caught sight of the black thing and remembered her question.

"What's that?"

Coach Sue's face split into a grin and she sat back in her chair, exhaling in contentment.

"That, my friend, is a bull's testicle."

Brittany blinked down at it, trying to figure out whether she was disgusted or fascinated. "Why…"

"It's on the paper," Coach interrupted, "take it with you and have someone read it out to you nice and slow so you understand."

Brittany nodded. She knew Artie would help her with that one.

"Alright, well if we're done now I have to go and do my twice-daily uterus stretching exercises." Coach pushed up out of her chair and Brittany stood too, bending as quickly as she could to get a disc from the front pocket of her bag that had been sitting at her feet. She held it out to Coach Sue who looked at it, wrinkled her nose and then shook her head.

"Frankly Brittany, I'd rather give birth to a sprightly garden gnome than watch that sex tape."

"Sex tape…Oh. Oh no," Brittany shook her head really hard so that her pony-tail whipped her in the face. "That's not. No, this is a video that Artie helped me make of Santana cheerleading. I thought...well I thought seeing as some colleges from around here offer cheer scholarships that we could apply with that video and get her one. And that would help you too, wouldn't it?" Nerves had made Brittany's voice all high and funny. "You know, because when that Kitty Cat lady comes looking for old cheerleaders they can show how Santana got in on a scholarship because of what you taught her."

Slowly, Coach reached out and took the disk, looking at Brittany the whole time. Her face had gone sort of soft.

"A couple of phone calls to speed this video around the cheerleading college circuit and we could probably make this happen," she said.

Brittany nodded, and then she began to smile so wide she thought her cheeks would burst. It took a moment, but Coach smiled softly back.

* * *

><p>They were lying in the grass at a park that Santana had driven them to, letting the sun stream all over their bodies. Santana kept on holding up the acceptance letter from Louisville above their heads- letting the sunlight shine through it so that all the tiny grains in the paper were lit up and the words looked like they were written in the sky. Brittany could hardly see, so she just closed her eyes and hummed in happiness, listening to Santana read the words out loud again.<p>

After she finished she said: "I can't believe you did this for me."

Brittany kept her eyes closed, but she had to stop humming so she could say: "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"Except eat a bull's ballsack?"

Brittany peeked one eye open,. Santana was lying on her side facing her, her mouth all twisted up in a mischievous smile. It made Brittany smile too.

"I already told you I ate one."

"Bullshit!" Santana exclaimed, shoving her lightly. Brittany fluttered her eyes closed and smiled even wider.

"Not bull's shit, bull's testicles," she corrected.

She heard Santana's clothes rasp with movement, and then the sunlight patterns on the insides of her eyelids shifted into shadow. She opened her eyes a second before Santana pressed herself right up along her left side.

Her skin was warm and her eyes, so close to Brittany's, were very, very bright. Softly, Santana reached up and pressed her finger against the tip of Brittany's nose.

"You're silly." Her voice was low and thick with emotion. Brittany could hear it. It didn't sound like tears though, just happy. It was the sound of happiness. "Come here," she murmured, and curved her hand through Brittany's hair, bringing her in. Brittany rolled over on her side, feeling the grass prickle the bare skin of her legs and arms.

Santana kissed her- slow and lazy and filled with sunlight. Then she pulled away, but Brittany wasn't ready to stop and, keeping her eyes closed, she pulled Santana in again. But her hands met resistance and then Santana jerked her head out of Brittany's grasp which made Brittany open her eyes in panic. Santana was twisting one way and then another, searching around them, her eyes wide and fearful.

"What?" Brittany frowned up into Santana's face- too scared to look anywhere else.

"Just checking," Santana said, ducking her head back down and swishing her nose back and forth against Brittany's.

Brittany giggled and rubbed her back and then asked, "what for?"

Santana's must have thought her own answer was funny, because she laughed before saying "cameras."


End file.
